


There Is Always Hope

by Narnvaeril (AnnEllspethRaven)



Series: Peace and War [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Body Image, Body Shaming, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fear, Forgiveness, Healing, Hope vs. Despair, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Redemption, Repentance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 00:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 48,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10477767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnEllspethRaven/pseuds/Narnvaeril
Summary: A story about the power of love, hope, and friendship, set in a quiet era of the sometimes tempestuous Second Age of Middle Earth. The recently founded Imladris is home to Erestor and Glorfindel, and Lórien is in its first period of rule by Galadriel and Celeborn. Erestor's pretty and petite new apprentice Estelwen is emotionally unavailable, as is her employer...which does not stop either of them from dreaming of what cannot be. Yet Estelwen soon finds herself on extended assignment in Lothlórien, which becomes more complicated than anyone could forsee. What happens when people are shamed and humiliated for their physical attributes?  Can great wrongs against another ever be forgiven?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eawen_penallion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eawen_penallion/gifts).



> I have created a new pen name, Narnvaeril. It is the Sindarin word for, "a female teller of tales." Because most of my works published under 'AnnEllspethRaven' adhere fairly strongly to the Tolkien legendarium, I wanted a separate place to write elven characters differently....that's here. These are the fics that will have things like M/M relationships, open relationships, sex outside of marriage, and every other sort of complete canonical no-no. Because, there are aspects of how individuals relate to each other at the deepest level that cannot be explored within that rigid framework. So the works will be segregated, because some of you love my writing and don't care...and some of you love my writing and have no desire to read this kind of thing....and that's why we're here :-)  
> *****  
> About this work: Though assorted pairings happen and characters have multiple partners of various genders, the sexual depictions are similar in tastefulness to my other works. No "porno language" will be found here. Also, this story contains a scene of very blurry consent that most would view as 'date rape'. It's deliberately painted in every shade of gray, because that topic of consent/responsibility/desire/intention is very much alive and well in the real world and is pivotal in a much deeper exploration of attitudes and motivations, and why people choose to behave as they do. That chapter will bear its own warning, though I've no idea how the story can be understood if that part is skipped.  
> Lastly...reading the marvelous fics of author eawen_penallion helped lay the groundwork for what evolved into this tale. If you enjoy this piece, I strongly recommend her published stories, because they are fabulously well-written and emotionally engaging. This story is gifted to her as a thank-you for the hours of joy her writing has given me.

{Around the year 1700, Second Age, give or take}

Estelwen trembled in nervousness, and lowered her hand for the third time. Her naneth's parting admonition rang in her ears: "You have studied diligently, daughter, and earned your next opportunity. Our love, and our pride in your achievements will never fail. Have confidence in yourself; you are beautiful, and deserving."

 _Have confidence in myself,_ she repeated over and over. _I can do this..._  On the fourth attempt, her fist met the wood of the heavy door, and landed three knocks that she hoped carried an assuredness not inwardly felt.

"Come in," carried the sound of a masculine voice.

Entering, she found herself in a cavernous room of dark woods and vaulted ceilings, beautifully illuminated by natural light from the many windows and dominated by the pleasant scent of books. Thousands of them. For this was the office of the great Library at Imladris, and behind the desk sat its Lord, the raven-haired Erestor. His head bent over a scroll, to which he added letters with sure strokes of his quill. A swift stab of yearning passed through her and was just as quickly banished, as she lowered her eyes. Whatever she had guessed her new teacher and employer might be by way of appearance, this was not it. Like for all other scribes and would-be scholars, the disposition of this ellon seated before her was legend. Exacting, aloof, brilliant; those were but a few of the terms used to describe Master Erestor of Imladris. But not a one of them had mentioned that he was beautiful beyond words. Creamy flawless skin, lips of the deepest pink, and glossy tresses worn in the formal braids of his station, that pulled the fall of black hair back from that elegant face and its collection of perfect geometry.  And all these observations had to be filed away dispassionately, in the blink of an eye, for they had no bearing on anything at all.

"I am Estelwen, my Lord. Sent by Master Emelin; here is his letter." The sealed parchment was placed on Erestor's desk, to the side, in a gesture that did not presume on its importance to the Chief Counselor. "I will serve you to the best of my ability, and am prepared to begin my duties immediately, if it pleases you." Stepping back from his desk out of respect, she watched, and waited. 

The perfectly formed hand, whose fingertips were lightly stained with ink, reached for the letter, breaking the seal. His eyes scanned the page quickly, darting up to take in some aspect of her appearance, from time to time. Erestor already knew the sum of the contents of this letter; it had all been arranged via Lord Elrond, months ago. "I take it your journey from Mithlond was not too difficult, and that your quarters have been assigned?" he inquired politely.

"That is correct, Master. And, yes. Thank you for inquiring."

Erestor's eyebrows raised; he felt very pleased. It did not escape his attention that she responded to precisely the question asked, with no additional information aside from words of courtesy. The last half-dozen prospective assistants who had passed before his desk had not managed so elegant and correct an answer. His eye lingered over another observation, as well. Estelwen was achingly beautiful. Petite, by comparison to many ellith, her dark chestnut hair accented eyes that were...most unusual, appearing to be both brown and blue? And yet it was hardly appropriate for him to linger on such observations. Rising from his seat, his dark robes swirled around his slender frame as he walked and gestured her to follow. "Over here."

He indicated a desk and chair, not terribly far from his own, near a window of colored glass. Parchment, inks, sand, measuring sticks, quills...all the basic materials of their art lay neatly arranged. "This will be your desk," he indicated.  "Here is an account of the Kingdom of Lindon, to date. I require that it be both examined for accuracy, and copied. I presume you have been taught the manufacture of manuscripts for books?"

"Yes, Master Erestor." Estelwen smiled, inside of herself, wondering if this was a test. It could hardly be an accident, that she was born in what remained of Lindon, studied extensively in Mithlond, and  this was her first assignment. "Do you wish any alterations made to the script?"

The Counselor's curved brows arched again over his deep chocolate eyes. "Yes. Please render the text in the standard mode of Tengwar, and not the mode of Beleriand. You are to ask me any questions you need, and inform me of any corrections ahead of your copying."

"Yes, Master." Removing her cloak, she was in the process of draping it over the back of her chair when a storm of unrest swept across the room.

"Honestly, you great curmudgeon! Is this how you welcome all in your employ to fair Imladris? Small wonder so many of them have fled in terror. Shame on you, Erestor!"

Estelwen looked up, both startled and appalled that anyone would speak thus to her esteemed Lord, until she saw the source. A giant of an ellon towered over her, his golden mane ablaze in the filtered sunlight, smiling beatifically. This could only be the seneschal of Imladris, second in fame only after Lord Elrond himself. Though her heart skipped several beats to see him and the smile he directed at her, outwardly she maintained the same demeanor as that of her new Master, and simply stared at him with polite reservation.

"Your enthusiasm is duly noted, my Lord," said Erestor acerbically, though with a hint of a smile. "Estelwen, may I present Lord Glorfindel, seneschal of Imladris?"

Without her entirely realizing how it had happened, her petite hand was in his very large one, as he mischievously kissed the back of her fingers with great delicacy. "Estelwen," he murmured reverently, from his position on bended knee. "It is my *hope* we come to know each other better."

Her stomach turned somersaults at this thinly veiled proposition and wordplay on her name. It had been rumored that the Lord Glorfindel made no permanent attachments because he kept busy making every manner of the temporary kind...and she had no interest in becoming one of his conquests. As always, her wit and training served her well. "I am honored, my Lord. It is said that few have more skill with the elven longsword than yourself, and I would welcome the opportunity to learn of some technical details for a monograph I am researching on the subject. Perhaps you would consent to offering me your assistance, on this? I am particularly interested in the training methods employed in Beleriand of old." Head held high and confidently, her gaze bored into that of the immeasurably strong and baffled ellon before her.

He gaped openmouthed at her clever yet gentle rebuff, complete with double entendre; Glorfindel very much had it in mind to demonstrate his sword to her, but not the one he kept polished in a scabbard. Clearing his throat, he rose, maintaining his dignity. "I would be delighted, Estelwen. Perhaps in a few days, when you have had a chance to accustom yourself to your new duties here. Know that you are most welcome, among us." The warm and merry smile returned to his features, conveying that no offense had been taken. If anything, this rather whetted his interest; he was not above enjoying a challenge, nor was he unskilled in the arts of seduction. He liked her already, for her cleverness and demeanor alone. 

With a smile and a bow of her head, she sat and turned the first page of the manuscript Erestor had given, and within seconds took no notice of the outer world as her brow furrowed in concentration. What she could not have observed was the silent laughter that shook Erestor's frame as the golden Lord shrugged and withdrew from his friend's office with a good-natured grin, having experienced a resounding defeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "play on words" concerning Estelwen's name is because her name means "Hope".


	2. Two

{One month later}

The light of minuial (dawn) filtered into the morning sky, as it had done every day since the creation of Anor (the sun), and woke Erestor from his rest. A familiar throb greeted him, between his legs, and he sighed, rising to draw a bath for himself. This private bathing chamber was a welcome luxury that was a privilege of his station. It was always warm in this small space from the fires elsewhere in Elrond's house; clever use had been made of heating pipes so that the great hearth in the Hall of Fire was not merely for a single purpose. As the stone tub filled with steaming water, he sat in the single chair, and poured some oil into his hand as he had done most mornings, for as long as he could recall. With his robe fallen open, he spread the welcome slickness on his swollen member and began to stroke himself lightly, his lips parting at the exquisite sensation. Lately, his thoughts had turned to something new during this daily ritual; the face and form of his new assistant. Though some part of him felt slightly ashamed, the rest of him could not. In a few short weeks, he found more and more that her presence in his world was a joy to him. Not once had she displayed anything other than propriety, and the greatest seriousness of mind. And cleverness, too. Every test he had placed before her, every stumbling block designed to catch her at unawares or reveal a lack of analytical thinking, she had surmounted with ease. He could not help it if he noticed the curves of her body, the sweetness of her smile, or the pretty laugh he had heard from her at times when seated near him at the table.  And once or twice, that he had caught a look of longing in her eyes, directed not at the handsome seneschal but at him, though it vanished in an instant if she saw his gaze upon her. 

With a pain in his heart, he looked down on that part of his body that had cursed him since he had come of age. His manhood. Thick and long out of proportion to the rest of his slender frame, and the source of a very painful awareness on his part. It had been so long ago, that he had met the first elleth who had taken an interest in him, and he in her. Long walks in happy conversation had given way to handholding, and passionate kisses, until one day he had heard the hoped-for words: "I want you, Erestor. All of you. Will you share yourself, with me?" Kisses in a secluded garden had led to disrobing, and the first intoxication of his mouth on her breasts, the first taste of her womanhood. Drunk with desire and yearning, he knew that he must be gentle with her; his father had explained in all the detail necessary how an elleth was made, and what courtesies were required for a female partner who was inexperienced. Which was why he had felt relieved, and gratified, when he heard from her, "Do not worry, melethron (a male lover), this is not my first time."

Their passion had increased, until she was begging him to fully disrobe, at which point her expression shifted to one of fear. "What...is the matter with you?" she whispered, none-too-tactfully.

"What do you mean?" he asked, both puzzled and embarrassed; he had never been aroused and nude with one of the opposite sex.

"Your manhood...it is more like unto that of a horse, not an ellon!"

Now his face was beet red. "We do not have to..."

"No," she said, lust written all over her face. "We will try. I must have relief, from so much desire." And lying back, she spread her legs for him, pulling his body over hers. He was barely positioned when he felt her pull him in with the surprising strength of her arms, and he found himself enveloped in the warmest, tightest, most dizzying pleasure of his existence to that moment. In his own lust and inexperience he thrust wildly into her, his very being consumed with the physical need for release. His orgasm tore through him almost immediately as he felt the jets of his seed leave his body. Nothing could have prepared him for the stifled roar of pain from his partner, or the blow she aimed at his face as she shoved him off of her body. "You filthy animal!" Her features were contorted in anger.

He pleaded with her, confused and apologizing. "Please, melethril (a female lover), I am so sorry! I have never done this before; I did not wish to hurt you. How can I correct my wrong?"

"Go find yourself a mare," she spat at him. "I never wish to see you again!" Wildly she bundled up her garments, before throwing them to the ground and bursting into tears. "Erestor....."

He tentatively reached to hold her, sick at heart and completely stunned at what had transpired. "I am so sorry," the sensitive ellon cried. "I did not know."

With a heavy sigh, she returned his embrace. "I know you did not," she said dully. "This is my fault as well. I have never felt a pain like that, and I reacted badly. You cannot help...how you are." She snorted. "The other young ellyn, do you know they like to brag, about who is biggest? I am afraid that you outdo them all. Erestor...I like you, but I do not believe this can work, between us. I am not looking to marry; I had only wished to meet someone nice, with whom to enjoy pleasures of this kind. This is an obstacle I do not know how to overcome. And...I do not wish to be stretched out like one who has already given birth, which is what would happen if we were to continue. I am sorry." Gently but firmly removing herself from his arms, she clothed herself in silence, smoothing her hair before turning to him. "Goodbye, Erestor."

He remained as he was for a long time, thinking. The greatest physical pleasure of his life had just been coupled with the most devastating blow to his psyche and self-esteem. With the fall of his hair obscuring his face, he wept until he felt nothing at all. Dressing himself, he wandered the paths of his village alone until Ithil (the moon) was high overhead. It was just as well, that the option yet lay before him to accept an apprenticeship in the Library of Gil-galad at Lindon; he had a few remaining weeks in which to decide. He had originally thought to turn it down, carried away as he was by the first days of his budding romance. But now, his path was clear. It would not be possible to be far enough away from this place, and the reminder of his shame.

Erestor had never taken another female lover.  There had been times of great need, and loneliness, when he had been enticed into bed with another ellon. Never mind that on those occasions, he was swiftly asked to be the recipient of love and not the instigator. These encounters had proved an opportunity for relief, and release. But even that had been quite some time ago. Since coming to Imladris, he had held the dignity of his position above his physical needs. He felt it would not be seemly, for one so highly connected to the Lord Elrond to be the subject of idle gossip or the machinations of would-be lovers. Though, he smiled crookedly, his Lord did not seem to find any fault with the antics of his seneschal. Besides, he knew as surely as the sun would rise...there was no one for him, as much as he wished there might be.

The water filled the tub, and he stepped into its heated warmth, stroking himself  now with greater force, as he imagined plunging into the depths of beautiful and intelligent Estelwen. The one elleth off-limits to him more than any other; doubtless with her diminutive and delicate stature, she was as petite inwardly as outwardly. A moan escaped his lips as he spilled into his hand, and a tear of longing trickled down his cheek. With a sigh, he sank down to the steaming water up to his neck, wishing not for the first time that he could be someone else.


	3. Three

{Ten years later}

"Estelwen, I am sending you to Lothlórien." 

The words cut like a knife. With all her force of will, she commanded her voice not to tremble, or be anything other than dispassionate and professional. "Have I displeased you, Master Erestor?" she asked. 

"Quite the contrary," he smiled in reply. "You have shown yourself to be deserving of further education and to be entrusted with greater responsibility. Master Salfir in Lórien is renowned for his archives concerning the history of the Noldor; there are many volumes in his possession that we here lack. Your assignment will be to copy those works to add to our collection, and learn what else you may that will add to our knowledge. Arrangements have already been made for your escort. You will depart the day after tomorrow, which should allow you the time to complete your current task."

"Yes, Master. May I be excused, for an hour?"

 _An hour, a day, a week...I would grant you anything, Estelwen_ , were his thoughts. What he actually spoke was, "Yes. An hour."

With a curt nod, she draped her cloak about her shoulders and left the office at a stately pace, not looking at the dark elf she knew watched her departure. Erestor sighed. Like him, she was very, very difficult to read. And yet, he thought he detected that this did not please her. _Why?_ he wondered. For none had displayed the intelligence she had shown, and it would be a grand opportunity.

Glorfindel paused in his work on the duty roster, for a very strange sight had just met his eyes. It was Estelwen, at ten o'clock in the morning, walking hastily to the path that led to the largest of the Imladris gardens. The same path that was in easy view of his office. Driven to curiosity, he wondered what was the matter with his friend. For they had become just that, friends. He had respected her wishes to forego his company in the intimate sense, and found her instead to be a charming and easy conversationalist, an inviolable confidante, and a being of great if hidden emotional depth. Not unlike someone else he could name, who happened to be his friend as well...and her master. Dropping his quill, he followed her at a careful distance. With his skills at tracking and his sensitive hearing, it was not difficult to locate her. Or rather, it was not difficult for *him*; anyone else would never have found her, hidden behind a sizable tree trunk in the midst of thick vegetation. The unmistakable sounds of muffled sobbing reached his ears. The seneschal stole up on her quietly, suspecting she might flee once he made his presence known.

"Estelwen, meldis, what is wrong?" he whispered, kneeling down next to her.

As he guessed, with something like a stifled shriek she tried to rise to her feet, but he would not allow it, catching her in his strong arms.

"Nooooooo," came the plaintive cry as she pushed against his hold, knowing even as she did so how useless this was.

"Shhhh," he whispered soothingly, holding her against him. "I will tell no one, little dear one. You are safe with me." It melted his heart, that her small fingers then unfolded to reach for him, as she buried her face against him and cried until there was no more. "Can you tell me what is the matter?" he asked gently.

"I must leave here," she choked out, her usually steady voice in tatters. "Erestor is sending me away."

"I know," the golden ellon replied. "I am the one who is to escort you to the Golden Wood." His forehead furrowed at her choice of words. _Erestor. Not Master Erestor, or Lord Erestor, but only....Erestor._  "It is a great honor, one for which no others have been deemed worthy, in his eyes."

Estelwen's eyes were squeezed shut. That was not the problem. That she would wake in the morning, and there would be no raven-haired ellon to gaze at, that would be the problem. That she would look up from some nameless parchment, and not hear her Master's rich, musical voice waxing poetic about some nuance of writing or the recording of annals, that would be the problem. That from time to time when she would stretch the muscles of her neck and back, and not see the Counselor deep in thought near a sunny window, his flawless skin and delicate features a feast for the eyes...all these things, would be the problem. It was hardly possible to conceive of her life without the gentle and devastatingly intelligent presence of her Master as part of it. But now she must. Nodding, she would say no more. "I am sorry, that you witnessed this," she murmured to Glorfindel in apology.

"Do not express regret to me for having feelings, Estelwen. I know you do have them, though you try so very hard to appear otherwise. You do not have to say more now, but you and I will have much time together, on our journey. I would like it if you would consider confiding in me, to unburden yourself concerning the full reason for your hurt. I wish to think that I have demonstrated to you that I value your friendship far beyond that of a potential bed partner. Whatever other reputations I may have," he said, his voice full of self-deprecating humor, "indiscretion is not among them."

This part was true, and she knew it. A heavy sigh escaped her. Perhaps, he could be trusted? He was not unkind, maybe she could tell him of her hopeless situation? _Situations_ , plural, for at this point they were more than just one. Yes, she had feelings. Feelings she had learned to bury after fording rivers of humiliation, which was why she vowed she would never leave herself vulnerable to such indignity again.

"I will...consider it," she promised him, attempting a weak smile.

"Good," he said, with mirth. "Now look at me," he requested, tilting her face up. With reluctance, she yielded to him,  knowing that her face was tear-stained and that her eyes would be swollen. "You cannot return to your duties, as you are. Not many know this about me, and I would prefer it remained thus," he said, in an offer of his own trust. He lowered his face to hers, carefully kissing each of her eyes. A sensation of bliss, and healing, passed through her. Eyes that had smarted a moment ago now felt refreshed and soothed. And in place of her agitation, was a sense of peace. 

With complete shock, and gratitude, she stared at him openmouthed. Everyone had heard he was Blessed of the Valar, but he seemed so... _normal_ , that it was easy to never think on this. Leaning forward, overtaken by impulse, Estelwen carefully and chastely kissed Glorfindel on the lips. "Thank you," she spoke in a voice that trembled as she rose and moved away from him. Turning back after a few feet, she met his eyes with her own full of trust. "Thank you, for everything." And she disappeared.

Glorfindel traced his lips, where the sweetness of her kiss still lingered, and pondered many things before his duty roster saw the next touch of a quill.


	4. Four

{four weeks later}

Their time together was slowly transforming the nature of Estelwen's relationship with Glorfindel, as well as her understanding of him. On their first nights in the Hithaeglir (the Misty Mountains) after the long journey south, where the temperatures were so much colder than anything she had ever known, she had shivered until her teeth chattered uncontrollably, only to find that her companion would tolerate it no more. His arms came around her as she lay curled in her blanket, drawing her against the heat of his body, and covering her with his own cloak and blanket as well. At first she felt trepidation, unused to this kind of contact with another. But he was ever a gentleman, and did not use their intimate proximity to make unwanted advances.  

The better part of a week after, when a small band of orcs came upon them as they ascended to the Redhorn Pass, he had drawn his sword and she saw more than she ever wished to of what he could do with a longsword. Her gentle friend was transformed into a fierce warrior who slaughtered all those before him. The knife in her hand, held in readiness, was never needed. And for that, she felt relieved; while she had good proficiency with knives, warfare had no appeal for her. That was, until Glorfindel turned his back and returned to her, and unseen behind him ran one last orc that had hidden away, awaiting a better opportunity. With a throw like lightning, Estelwen's knife flew from her hand, felling the creature as the blade sank deep into its eye. The golden Lord looked at her, the orc, and her again, a broad smile spreading over his features.

"Did you know that I have only seen one other in Imladris so skilled with a throwing knife?" he asked her.

She shook her head No, trying to control the pounding of her heart.

Later that night, sheltered in the dark, his comment would not leave her mind. It took many hours, for the shock of the attack to abate for her. "Who did you mean, my Lord? Who else in Imladris does well with knives?"

"Erestor," he answered. "Erestor is a master at knives." The slight catch of her breath was all he needed to hear.

Another few days transpired, and finally they neared the lands closer to the Anduin, their path having turned south and east. They did not cover so many leagues each day, now, because Estelwen had a small body that was beginning to weary from the distance. Though, they were yet making good progress; it was no matter. There was not so much cold now, at night, but Estelwen unthinkingly still sought Glorfindel's warmth when it was time for rest. And the question was unexpected when it came, having been forgotten by her. "Have you given further thought to what I asked of you earlier, Estelwen?" he whispered softly. "Why were you crying, the day I found you?"

For some moments, she lay still, running her fingers lightly over his bare forearm, that encircled her. She had already decided to trust him, which did not make any of this any easier. "I will tell you, though not all of the answer will be with words. And when you have your understanding, you will know why I am...like I am. You have earned my confidence, my Lord." Turning slowly in his arms, she pulled herself against him, and kissed him softly. "I will share myself with you, if it is still your desire. But I must warn you that you will be disappointed."

Glorfindel had heard many sentiments from many lovers, both male and female, but never this. _Why would someone so lovely say such a thing?_ He frowned, even as he reached his hand to wordlessly cup her face, and return her kiss. A gentle brush of his tongue asked for entrance to her mouth, and he felt surprised on some level, at the willingness with which she yielded to him. Moments later his deft fingers were unbuttoning her tunic to free firm breasts that were more ample than he would have guessed. Soft moans greeted the exploration of his mouth as they delighted in her nipples, and kisses traced a path to her leggings. He could feel his loins swelling, and began fumbling with the laces of his trousers. 

He need not have bothered, for Estelwen's nimble fingers managed the task quickly enough, caressing his manhood the moment it was freed. When she first felt him, a tiny hope flitted through her. His was the largest she had ever held, not that she had made very many attempts in her life. "You have...done this before?" he asked, growing breathless in his want, but fearing for what he was certain would be their discrepancy in compatibility.

 _Let the confessions begin_ , she thought bitterly, though every part of her was appreciating his attentions. "You will not hurt me, Glorfindel. I am afraid you will find that it is not possible. This is why I do not take lovers; though I am little better than a maid for experience, my body is cursed with being too large for any ellon to fill," she said miserably. "I will do my best, to try to please you. I beg you for only one thing, do not mock me. It is more than I can bear."

Her words, and her plea, stabbed him to the heart. Not to mention, he did not see how she could possibly be in earnest. He was...large, compared to many, and had needed to use great care with most partners. At least, until they had become accustomed to each other. The truth was, he was a 'friend with benefits' to any who would accept him. He shared his emotional and physical love, wisdom and kindness freely; the only thing he did not share was knowledge of his partners. It was a sacred trust, to be intimate with another, one he would never betray. But that she had suffered, and been treated badly; this much was obvious. "I will never hurt you, Estelwen. The only thing I must be clear on, I believe you already know. I do not ever choose only one, to love. As long as you understand that I can never be for you alone, whatever you give me will be cherished."

Her eyes closed, and she returned his kisses more fervently, until he could hold back no longer, and placed himself against her entrance. Her hips arched up to meet him, and he slipped easily into her welcoming warmth. She groaned, at the feel of him. While it was still not perfection, it was the best she had ever had. Glorfindel, for his part, struggled to comprehend her body. It was as she said, not that this for any reason should ever have made her a subject for mockery. A skilled lover had the means for overcoming any obstacle, and he was nothing if not skilled. "There is something I wish to try, Estelwen. I promise, you will have pleasure from it. And so will I." He pulled gently out of her body, and brought his mouth to her nether parts, enjoying her in this manner while his hand scrambled through his nearby knapsack until dextrous fingers found a small pouch. Inside were five steel balls, polished and gleaming. He held them warming in his hands while he continued to indulge himself. And then one at a time, while his tongue teased her pearl, he pressed these inside of her, smiling at the irony. There had been few occasions on which he had ever employed these, and most had been with ellyn who were not of sufficient endowment to be able to please him. And yet these had allowed for everyone's happiness in the end.

When he had placed all of these, he entered her again, carefully, groaning in pleasure as the metal objects vibrated and hummed against each other and his length. What he heard from his partner was, "Oh!"

He chuckled mischievously. "I told you I could be trusted, sweet Estelwen. And now to give you something which I fear you have long been denied." His mouth and hands roved everywhere, expertly, while the place of their joining became a maelstrom of pleasure and passion. Over and over he thrust into her, until she writhed beneath him, her delicate head shaking back and forth in the long soft grasses that made their bed. Clinging to him, her fingers closed around the skin of his shoulders as her climax swept her away and her vision went white. The shaking of her tiny frame beneath his triggered his own completion, as his body stiffened and his seed surged into her. Neither could afford to be vocal in the wilderness; this they each understood. 

It did not stop her from covering his face in kisses of gratitude, or from beginning to cry with suppressed grief and denial. "Thank you, Glorfindel," she told the lover she never meant to have.

He held and soothed her, stroking her dark hair, marveling at how small she was. And yet...how...not. "No, thank you," he emphasized. "But while you have given me the gift of your body, my question remains unanswered. What happened to you, Estelwen? Why do you cry, even now?" He sat up, and held her against him, helping her back into her clothing even as he placed a cloth between her legs, out of courtesy. No one could possibly appreciate drying semen on their travel clothing.

"It is because of what I cannot have. Have never had. You have now experienced my body, my Lord. I do not know why I am like this. The first time I lay with an ellon, he was not kind like you have been. I believe his exact words to me were that 'a mother of three has tried to pass herself off as a virgin.'  Being young and naive, I was foolish enough to try to have relations with the few others that showed interest. Not only did I fare no better, the last one made a point of telling about my...circumstances...to the entire village. Every unkind thing imaginable was said to me, including accusations that I obviously enjoyed coupling with farm animals, to be as I am. I bless the Valar that I was gifted to learn to be a scribe and a scholar, for it allowed me to leave my home centuries ago. I told myself, 'never again' and have not allowed another to touch me since. You are the only one who has ever given me an experience that did not make me regret being born," she said, her eyes still filling with tears under the starlight. "For this I will always be grateful to you in my heart."

Glorfindel rocked her in his arms. "This tells me why you are crying now, dear one. But not why you were crying to leave Imladris."

"That is somewhat simpler," she said, her voice now shaking. "I have developed strong feelings for my Master. I can see how he is, that he has no interest in others; I know that I can never have him. That he would never want me." She snorted. "He seems to be much like me, never taking a lover, never desiring another. But to see him every day, to be near him...it was enough. And now I have lost this too, for now, and it tears at my heart. You must think me very foolish."

"No, I do not," he murmured. "I think you are exquisite. I will not lie to you, I guessed at this, but it was because of something you said when I found you crying in Imladris." He brushed her hair aside, and kissed her cheeks. 

"My Lord, what of these...what you put inside of me?"  She was not sure how to ask such a strange question.

"Well, now that is interesting," he replied. "Would you like to try an experiment? Among other uses, they can strengthen the muscles that surround an elleth's intimate areas. The challenge is, to keep them inside of you. To use your muscles to retain them so that they do not drop out. They will not harm you, to be left where they are."

Estelwen quickly pieced together his reasoning. "And thus I might be able to 'tighten', so to speak?" He nodded, smiling, even as he leaned forward to kiss her once again, his desire returning. "I will try anything, for the kindness you have shown me," she said, her own lust ignited as well. Moments later, she straddled his length, thrusting herself down upon him, until they each gained release again. After they cleaned each other, he insisted they clothe themselves fully, and sleep. Tomorrow was another walk. 


	5. Five

{one week later}

Glorfindel pointed ahead to the distance in the south, as the sun rose in the east. "We are not far, now. Tomorrow at the latest, we will cross into the woods. And then it will be perhaps  another day or two, to Caras Galadhon." A slight pang of grief  went through her, at his words. For though she did not love him, it would be a lie to deny that she had become swiftly attached to him. He had filled a void in her spirit, and caused her to believe once again that she might risk enjoyments of the body and greater sharing of herself. That she perhaps did not need to be the walled-off and aloof creature that had existed in her petite frame for so long. They had made love every evening, and she had quickly grown accustomed to having this enjoyment. And yet Estelwen well remembered his words. She would not cause him to regret his time with her by a show of clinging or other ill-mannered behavior. Resigning herself to this swiftly approaching eventuality, a nod was her only response to his words.

Glorfindel saw.  "Estelwen, there is more that I should say to you, while there is yet time," he said gently. "About what has passed between us."

Vigorously, she shook her head. "You were more than forthright, my Lord. I am not an elfling, and I know that our parting is to come. I will not sully the kindness you have shown me with a display unbefitting either of us. I have at least that much dignity remaining."

"Estelwen..." he gathered her against him. Her forceful words were betrayed by the trembling of her small frame. "No. This does not all rest on you, to pretend that you do not have feelings. Or that I do not as well. For I have grown very fond of you, melethril. Do not think that I somehow look forward to leaving you, or that I will be eagerly searching about for the next one to fill my bed. I know that you have never before had a lover. Never before had someone to warm you at night and wake to in the morning.  I want you to know that it is no shame, that you will miss me and I will miss you. Do not feel like those emotions are somehow wrong, or bad. When we cross the borders of Lothlórien, we will no longer be alone. And this is what I wish to speak of. Long ago,  on your arrival in Imladris, I believe my reputation for loving freely was known, to you. It is no less known in the Golden Wood. What I want to offer you is the chance to not have your time here be tainted by...me, if that is what would be wiser in your eyes. If you wish to walk from this place forward, remaining physically aloof and chaste from each other, I will take no offense."

In spite of herself, her breath hitched. "You are offering  to pretend that you have not had me?" she asked, incredulous. 

He nodded, slowly. "You spent all these last years at Imladris, rejecting my advances and everyone else's. Though I do not spread rumors, I most certainly hear them. Much like my dear friend the Counselor, who I suspect remains chaste on account of his connection to Lord Elrond, you have gained for yourself a certain regard and mystique, shall we say, concerning your lack of availability. It has served you well, though I do not wish to be the one to encourage you to continue denying yourself the joys of life." He sighed, kneeling to touch his forehead to hers. "You will be in Lórien for some time, Estelwen, working for one who is high in the esteem of the Lord and Lady of this wood. Your private life not automatically being a subject of gossip among the mellyrn (mallorn trees) is something worth considering."

"Glorfindel...."she said, at a complete loss. "I feel like it would be false, dishonorable, to deny that you are cherished in my affections. How could I live with myself?" Distress roiled through her.

"Because you do not love me, and I do not love you. Not in the way that we would need to, for such an action to constitute a betrayal of our hearts. You do not owe me your loyalty, in this way. You will always be my meldis, my sworn sister, after what we have shared. I will ever keep and treasure your confidences, so long as I am granted life. I will not ever complain, about an opportunity to share the joys of the body with you. But you owe me nothing other than what the bonds of friendship demand."

"You have given me too much about which to think," she said miserably. "I am little better than a virgin, in all these matters. I have held down so many emotions, for so long, and now..."

"And now you find it is not so easy to sew them back up so that they are no longer free," he said, kissing her cheek. "For this, I am sorry, even though I am not." Sadness genuinely seemed to wash over his beautiful features, for he recognized that by helping, he had also caused another sort of difficulty. 

"I must find a way," Estelwen stated bluntly. "The moment I cross the borders of the Golden Wood, I represent Master Erestor. I would rather die than bring any shame on him, or his faith in me. I am sent to accomplish a task, for him. That must be my focus. My only focus. I will ask you for only two more things. The first is that you love me once more, before our time alone together ends. The second is that I have grown fond of walking with my hand on your arm. I will show no other sign of affection to you than this, but I ask to continue it. If this will cause them to wonder, then let them wonder."

With a full smile and a happy heart, he hugged her close. "It shall be as you wish."


	6. Six

Glorfindel was extraordinarily cautious, as their last night's place of rest had them so near to the edge of the woods. They had no fire, and he brought them deep within a copse of trees and thick vegetation, to sleep. "We must be quieter than the wind tonight, melethril. Never underestimate the woodcraft of the Galadhrim (the tree-dwelling Silvan elves)."

Estelwen nodded, having modified her clothing long ago to facilitate their intimacies. They each unlaced the other to the extent necessary, both feeling a little sad and strange at the knowledge that this would be their last lovemaking until who even knew when. A few days past, she had returned Glorfindel's strange steel balls to him, when an opportunity to have them out and clean them presented itself near a stream that ran into the mighty Anduin. She thanked him for what he and they had done for her; her muscle tone had improved greatly in her intimate areas and she could now physically control some of her ampleness.  He was pleased and gratified at her efforts, for while there was still disparity between them, it was not so great as to deny them their passion. So now that the golden Lord was freed, she silently moved her body beneath his as had become their custom, guiding him inside of her. The sensation of his powerful body thrusting into her depths, exciting her passion as it always did, left her gratified. Though she did not tell Glorfindel, and never would, she could not help but imagine from time to time that it was her Master, that claimed her. That a much more slender frame would dominate her body, and that a fall of raven hair and not gold would  dance at her breasts. That her lips would find ones of the deepest pink, about whose sweetness she could only dream. And that when she was brought to climax, it was Erestor's name she called out in her mind. _So much sadness, that needed banishing. Why do I torment myself with this, that can never be?_ Erestor did not want her. Somehow this thought gave her the will to control all the rest of them.  When Glorfindel reached his peak, she held him tightly as he filled her, kissing his throat in reverence, stroking his golden tresses in thanks for the privilege granted her. _Her friend. Her melethron. Always._ Silently, carefully they cleaned each other, and cared for their clothing before Glorfindel enveloped her in the cocoon of his warmth and sleep took them both.

At sunrise, after a simple meal of elven waybread and some water, they cared for bodily necessities and walked on. By early afternoon, Glorfindel expected to reach the borders. "Though you have spoken much of your perception of Erestor's skills, you have not ever told me much, of what it is that you and your Master find so fascinating in your chosen occupation," he said. "I believe I would go mad, sitting at a desk all the day long, writing."

She laughed, holding onto his arm as she had promised she would. "It is not only writing. It is reading, too. And listening, and careful thinking. The consideration of differing viewpoints, knowing when to question why a thing was said or written, and its accuracy. It is a vocation by which to preserve the truths of the past for the benefit of the present, and the future."

"You manage to make it sound more interesting than the hopeless curmudgeon whom you serve," he admitted.

"That is impossible," she shot back, determined to defend her Master. "No one is more intelligent, or insightful. No one has studied more of the nature of others; their motivations, their frailties, their strengths. His wit is the sharpest I have ever encountered, and his knowledge formidable. He can..." her praise of Erestor was cut short when grey-clad elves dropped from the trees all around them, bows drawn. Estelwen's words died on her lips as she shrank back against her protector in fear.

Glorfindel harrumphed and glared at the warriors. "Are times so dire that the Galadhrim fail to recognize Glorfindel of Imladris, especially when our arrival here is anticipated? Shame on you, for frightening  an elleth enroute to the service of Master Salfir. Where is your Captain?"

"Here." A tall ellon with pale gold hair stepped forward, who was not so giant as her escort. A broad but haughty smile spread across his face. "Mae govannen, Glorfindel, (well met)" he chuckled, offering a warrior's handshake.

"Rúmil. Did Haldir put you up to this?" Glorfindel accused, returning the gesture. "All is well, Estelwen. Do not fear. Sometimes warriors develop a sense of humor that runs away with courtesy," he rebuked pointedly.

"Possibly," Rúmil answered, noting with a raised eyebrow the easy trust this elleth seemed to have with Glorfindel.

"I am fine, thank you," she said archly. "I was only taken aback to be greeted as though I were an orc." 

The frosty tones of her voice left little doubt of her annoyance and could hardly be said to contain notes of romance toward the seneschal of Imladris. _Perhaps I am mistaken_ , Rúmil thought, suddenly doubtful. He had seen the likes of scribes before, and if anyone was less likely to have warmed Glorfindel's bedroll, it would probably be this elleth. "Come," he said aloud. "An escort will meet us, some hours to the south. The Marchwarden himself has insisted on accompanying you to Caras Galadhon."

Glorfindel once again offered his arm to Estelwen with formal propriety, and she took hold of it in the same manner. What no one else could observe was the squeeze of gratitude he felt through the pads of her fingertips, or the reassurance and comfort the contact with him gave her.

Some time before dusk,  the rendezvous occurred, and Rúmil's company turned back northward to resume their patrol. When they departed beyond earshot, Glorfindel spoke at last. "Estelwen, this is my old and dear friend Haldir. And Haldir, this is Estelwen, who I name my meldis. It is my hope that you will watch over her during her time here. There is no finer ellon in the Golden Wood, save for the Lord Celeborn himself; I would trust Haldir with my life."

Estelwen bowed deeply before the Marchwarden, and spoke words of formal greeting to him. And Glorfindel's meaning was taken, as well. That if there was one here she could choose to trust, it would be Haldir. They resumed their journey south, until night fell. A warm and welcoming fire was built for their comfort, and Haldir made them tea and offered dried fruits and cheese; a welcome luxury after days of only water and waybread. After they had taken refreshment, he indicated the trees above. "A talan is here; we do not sleep on the ground in the Golden Wood." He pointed to the little ladder, which she made her way up easily enough. Her blanket was retrieved from her knapsack. There were furs rolled up against the tree trunk, but she did not understand the use of them. Haldir spread out three of these, placing them close together. Glorfindel laid down on the outer one, and gestured for Estelwen to do the same next to him. She did so, covering herself with her blanket, lamenting privately that she would be cold tonight. 

Which was why her eyes flew open in surprise, when both ellyn on either side of her closed the space to sandwich her between them. Glorfindel spoke, very softly. "I could not know, that Haldir would come to meet us, Estelwen, or I would have explained more than I did. I know that he would be honored to care for you, in your time here. He and I know each other well. _Very_ well."

It took her some moments to reach comprehension, as she looked back and forth at their faces, softly lit in the moonlight. "No one else would know?" For though it took her a minute, she now understood what they were asking. Offering.  And while part of her could not believe she was agreeing to this, what had been awakened in her did not want to face endless months of loneliness here.

"I am much like Glorfindel," Haldir said gently. "You might say that what he is to Imladris, I am to Lórien."

"Then, yes," was her only answer, before Haldir leaned forward to claim her mouth with a soft kiss. If it surprised her, that Glorfindel moved over her to better attend to Haldir, she did not show it. When some minutes hence, Haldir thrust inside of her even as Glorfindel did the same to Haldir, Estelwen wondered what leave she had taken of her senses. For it was yet the seneschal of Imladris that drove her passion, through the living instrument beneath him and above her. Though Haldir was not so long as her meldir in his length, he had the same or greater girth, which did not cause her to feel the reluctance she had feared. And she tried very hard, clamping and squeezing down on the Marchwarden in her best effort to please him. Their climaxes came amidst soft sighs of contentment, as Haldir kissed her gently and thoroughly, and whispered words of thanks in her ear. When they were all restored as to clothing, she nestled in her usual position against Glorfindel but held both of Haldir's hands while drifting off to pleasant dreams.

Estelwen woke early, still between the protective warmth of the two ellyn, and wondered what had become of her life. With a vague sense of shame, her memories turned to beautiful Erestor. So far from her body, but so near to her heart. What would he think of her, if he knew of this? She did not know, nor did she want to. Valar have pity on her, he was far away, though this knowledge did nothing to quell the yearning in her heart.  Her eyes closed again, while the play of emotions across her features ran on unabated. When she next opened them, it was to see the soft blue of her new lover's eyes watching her. "Aur vaer (Good day)," she whispered softly, feeling shy in spite of their mutual boldness some hours before. Smiling, he placed a kiss on her forehead, and left the talan to build a fire for tea. 

Glorfindel was next to stir, sitting up and taking her with him. He hugged her close to him. "Last night," he whispered. "I hope..." she heard the regret in his voice and turned to him, silencing him with a warm embrace.

"I agreed," she whispered back. "You are still my meldir." And it was true. She held no judgement against him, any more than he did against her. 

He squeezed her tightly, kissing her on the cheek. "We will speak more, later. I promise." With that, he too descended the unrolled ladder, leaving her alone on the talan, where she elected to roll up the furs and store them. Leaning over, she saw Glorfindel and Haldir locked in a passionate kiss, and smiled. Needless noise was made, as she rolled her own blanket and prepared to descend.


	7. Seven

{two weeks later}

"You are feeling a little better, in your new life here, Estelwen?" Glorfindel sat alone with her in the private talan assigned to her, sharing a bottle of wine and some fruit.

"Yes. I will be well enough, here, meldir. But not a day will go by when I do not think of Imladris. It has become the home of my heart. I will give my best to fulfill my assignment, but..." she broke off. "There is nothing to add that I have not already said. And no one wishes to listen to someone who goes on and on, even when that one is you."

He chuckled. "I admire and appreciate your self-awareness, in this regard. But I will tell you now...I too have been sent away for assignments of one kind or another. Some were for only a few weeks, others required months away from Imladris. Know that you are not alone, in your feelings. We are family, there, and I expect that you will remain as a permanent resident."

"How can you know that?" she asked plaintively. For while she wished for nothing more, she still believed herself at the mercy of dismissal by her Master.

A wry smile formed on his perfectly rosy lips. "I am not at liberty to discuss all that I know. But I can say one thing in truth. Erestor has never kept an assistant beyond four months. You have been with him ten years. Though he may never say it in plain words, I have known him long enough to see that you are going nowhere. And Estelwen, speaking of going...."

"You must return," she concluded simply. It was only logical, after all, and it had surprised her that he had lingered this long.

"Yes."

"I am sorry, that you must travel all that way alone. And I should thank you, since I have not already done so...all other things that passed between us aside, I could not have wished for a better guard and guide. Even though I know you will tell me it was your assigned duty, thank you for the care you took of me. I am well aware that even had we not shared ourselves, you still would have watched out for me courteously. I am not like you, my Lord, mighty in warfare. I could not have made this journey alone without great fear and hardship." Her stunning eyes that were blue at their center radiating into brown at the edges looked into his, with full sincerity.

"You are welcome, Estelwen," he said softly, as he tried to recall the last time someone had thanked him for doing his sworn duty. "It was my pleasure." The mischievous brat in him could absolutely not resist the double entendre.

"You are incorrigible, my Lord," she said, grinning and leaning back in her chair while taking another sip of the wine.

"I cannot deny it," he smiled happily, before his expression turned quite serious. "Meldis, there is something I wish to ask you. The difficult part is, I cannot explain even to myself why I am about to make this request, only that something compels me. And no offense will be taken, if your answer is 'No'."

"Well that was an inspiring preamble," Estelwen retorted. "What is it?"

He raised his gem-blue eyes to look at her with great sincerity. "I want to ask your permission to share some of the things I have learned about you, if I deem that a greater purpose could be fulfilled by doing so."

Her eyes lowered, and studied the wine in her glass. For all that he had come to be in her life, this was still asking a great deal. For many minutes, she weighed the possible consequences of agreeing to what he asked before speaking. "I do not know if you fully understand, the level of trust you are asking me to place in you. So on one condition, I will give my consent."

"And that is?" 

"That if something comes of it that goes ill for me, that you be there to pick up the pieces, whatever that will demand. I am still not sure you see, Glorfindel, that I am not strong. You do not know what it required, or the pain I felt, to work past the ills that have befallen me in this life. The defenses I have set in place, of isolation and trusting no one until you, are there for a reason; to prevent an insurmountable outcome."

"I understand, meldis. And I give you my promise, for this. Should something go terribly wrong, I pledge to care for you in whatever way is needed."

With a nod Estelwen acknowledged him, hoping desperately that this eventuality never happened. They drank in silence, finishing their wine. 

"I will leave very early tomorrow, before daybreak," he finally said. 

"Then this is good-bye?"

"For now, dear one. We will see each other again." He rose, standing at his full height, opening his arms to her.

She had promised herself, _promised herself_ that there would be no tears, no clinging. Carrying through with this intention was one of the hardest things she had ever done.  Rising, she wrapped her arms around his ribs. "Goodbye, Glorfindel. I will pray for your safety, and your swift passage home." Chuckling she added, "Do you know, I have no idea what to do when my task here is finished? How do I come home?"

"That too will be arranged," the seneschal said, amused. "Like as not either myself or Haldir will see you back. Though, a word of advice. You would be wise to avoid traveling during Rhîw, or near to it. The mountains were cold for you, and will be no warmer when covered in the snows of winter."

"I will remember. No vaer (Be well), Glorfindel." With a last squeeze to his mid-section, she backed away. "Hustle off now, and take your night's rest."  A quirky smile indicated that she had some idea of how he might be taking his 'night's rest', but she did not begrudge him. Honestly, for the first time, it was likely best for her to remain alone. Once her quarters had been assigned he had continued to keep her company, discreetly, often leaving before dawn or otherwise making his presence in her bed undetectable to others. With a last, quick kiss to her forehead he turned and was gone. The rest of the bottle of wine yet remained, and refilling her glass, she had every intention of using it to send herself to sleep.


	8. Eight

{six months later}

Erestor looked up from his reading, for the hundredth time that morning. With a sigh, he placed the book on his desk, and rose. His feet carried him to Estelwin's desk, as they so often did. He closed his eyes, thinking of the familiar form of the diminutive elleth. He had memorized every feature of her face, ever nuance of her hands. Her writing, so difficult to distinguish from his own, he kept nearby. Absentmindedly, he picked up one of her quills, turning it around in his fingers, admiring the precise angle at which she had trimmed the writing edge. He closed his eyes, and sighed.

"I miss her too," a soft voice said from across the room.

Erestor looked up to see his golden haired friend leaning against a column, and for the briefest of moments, a stab of jealousy flitted across his face. "What do you mean?" he asked, knowing that even as the words left his lips, they were poorly chosen and not reflective of his carefully crafted outward demeanor.

Glorfindel missed none of this, and his eyes flared briefly in surprise. His comment obviously struck much closer to home than anticipated; he would need to answer carefully. "I mean that Estelwen is a hard worker, honored by many in Imladris. I miss her wit and her insight. She is my friend, Erestor. Even if I did have to listen to over two cycles of the moon of her speaking incessantly of you." This in truth was no exaggeration; it was the price he paid for insisting she unburden her heart to him. No facet of what she had meant by 'having strong feelings for Erestor' had been left unsaid. What Glorfindel had not stated to her, because she needed to realize it for herself, was that she was deeply in love with the dark Counselor.

"She what?" Erestor was not fully certain he had just heard correctly. 

Glorfindel shook his head, smiling. "Have dinner with me tonight, old friend. I would enjoy the company and perhaps so would you. In the meantime my duty rosters await. Will you?" He arched his expressive eyebrows.

"Yes," Erestor answered. Though he would never admit it, his curiosity was piqued, and the seneschal had spent a great deal of time with her...

He watched as his friend smiled and left,  looking only over his shoulder to say, "Aduial (dusk). My rooms."

Erestor sighed heavily, rubbing at his eyes. Though he felt fairly certain Estelwen would not have accepted Glorfindel into her arms, the truth was it was none of his business either way. He certainly had no right to any claim on her; he had never once let on a whisper of a hint of the attachment he had come to feel for her. When he had sent her to Lórien, he imagined it might be best for him. To have some distance, to allow his mind to settle on other matters. But none of it had worked. For eight cycles of the moon his assistant had been away from here, and each day had felt the same. He bowed his head in misery, wishing she were here, for at least then he would have the sight of her. And it would be enough, because it would have to be.

*****

When the soft knock came, Glorfindel had just finished laying out his table. The covered dishes of food, newly from the kitchens, sat on his candle warmers. He loved to entertain as much as he loved to seduce, and so the two pastimes went well together in his eyes. Wine sat at the ready, and he had just lit the candles for his guest. Smiling, he rolled his eyes. He had not given up hope of seeing a far more personal side of Erestor, though such an outcome certainly was not expected or at the forefront of his thoughts. Then again, after Estelwen surprised him, who he had thought equally hopeless....well, one never knew.

"Welcome, Erestor," he said kindly. "Please, come in. I feel rather excited; I managed to connive two perfect baked apples from the cooks for our dessert."

"Baked apples?" the Counselor asked in disbelief. So much had Estelwen remained on his mind for the rest of the day that he was barely in a fit state for socializing. Only that he could not fail to come to dinner without being horribly rude brought his feet here, in the end.

Glorfindel looked at his friend in sympathy, seeing that all was not well, and took him by the hand to seat him, pouring a generous glass of wine. Erestor immediately drank the entire glass down in one swallow, alerting his host to the fact that while dinner might not be appreciated as intended, that there was a greater need for a listening ear than he had been aware. He refilled the glass but admonished softly, "Go slowly, meldir. Whatever troubles you, I will help you if you will allow it."

"There is no help for me, Glorfindel," the chocolate eyes gazed up at him, glazed with sorrow and the weight of burdens long carried. "I am here in a moment of weakness, trusting that you will not hold it against me."

"I love you, Erestor. I always have. It has ever been my hope to see you happier. I would never think less of you for having the courage to ease your mind," he said gently, stepping behind him and carefully resting his hands on Erestor's shoulders. When this gesture was not rebuffed, he slowly began to knead at the Counselor's muscles, that were knotted with the stress his body carried. At first there was stiffening and resistance, but in moments Erestor sighed with contentment. As his fingers and thumbs delved down his spine, he tugged at his outer robes. "You are a giant ball of tension, my friend. Take off your robe and allow me to make a proper job of this."

The slender elf stood and unfastened the clasps of his heavy garment, beneath which he wore only a thin tunic, and leggings. "How do you want me?"

Glorfindel bit his lip from the strain of ignoring so obvious an invitation for an untoward comment, but this was no time for such humor. "Lie down on the sofa here, on your belly."

Without any other consideration, Erestor did this without hesitation, moaning softly when the large hands found his shoulders once again. It had been so long, so very long, since another had touched him. And it stabbed his heart because he knew where this would lead, and  he did not have the strength to resist. As his stiff muscles were soothed and massaged, he gave way to tears.

"Erestor?" Glorfindel asked softly, carefully pulling back the raven hair from the face that was turned from him, to see the moisture clinging to the dark lashes. Without another thought, he scooped the ellon up as if he were weightless, and held him as one might a child. "Please talk to me," he whispered, kissing the tears from his cheeks. The answer he received was a kiss to his mouth, in which he recognized a plea, along with a hand that slipped under the fabric of his tunic. The feel of that hand, touching so delicately, set him afire. In moments, clothes were being discarded, as Glorfindel carried the unresisting elf to his bed, drawing moans of desire from that perfect mouth. He held Erestor close, as their swollen lengths rubbed against each other while he placed luxurious kisses at the dark elf's throat and neck. It was only when he raised up enough to take in all of his form, that his eyes widened and a soft gasp escaped him. Because, he now had to wonder how this was going to be possible, for them to share love. He had thought to offer himself to Erestor, to spare him the discomfort of his own size but this....Glorfindel wondered, could he manage so large an arousal?

Erestor looked up and saw, his eyes filled with sadness. "Glorfindel, you do not have to complete the act of love, with me. Now you know, meldir, why I remain alone. If you would only just hold me. I am so lonely," he said, his words giving way to choking sobs. "It has been so long, since I have felt the touch of another." 

The golden Lord's thoughts were no longer of lust but were filled with pity. "Come here," he said, holding Erestor close to him, covering his face with kisses. "There is always another way, dear friend." He reached for the container of oil kept near his bed, and filled the palm of his hand. Some he drizzled on Erestor, some he used to slick his own length. Holding his friend against him, he began to firmly stroke Erestor with his hand, until silent tears gave way to moans of pleasure. Erestor delighted in kisses and soft touches, and Glorfindel gave of both generously until finally his slender frame shook with the need for release. He took Erestor into his mouth, as far as he was able, and worked him to an explosive completion. With a soft cry, the slender elf's frame went rigid as a release like no other he had experienced took him. More tears drained from his eyes, as he clung to the seneschal.

"I did not mean to come here for this," Erestor said, trying to find words of apology. "I do not want you to think that I..."

"Meldir, do us both a favor and stop thinking," said Glorfindel. "It breaks my heart, to know that you have denied yourself affection, and love. You are beautiful, inside and out, and I would do anything I am able to help you or ease your loneliness. Erestor, any comfort of the body I can give, I would do so gladly for you."

The dark elf looked deeply into his friend's eyes and saw that there was only earnestness written there. "I have been foolish," he confessed. "I did not know you would be...like this."

"I will tell you what you already know, Erestor. I do not choose only one other, to love. If you can accept this about me, then know that you have a place of welcome in my arms."

"Thank you," he said, feeling some of the weight lifting from his spirit. Just to feel the warm skin of another, against his own, brought healing. He looked up, suddenly taken aback. "I have left you unfulfilled." Raising his eyes in query to Glorfindel, he was unable to believe his lack of courtesy.

Glorfindel shook his head with a merry laugh. "I find I would rather eat, and hope that you would join me?" He added, softly, "Are you feeling at least a little better, Erestor?"

"I am," he smiled. "But at least allow me to don my robe, before sitting at your table. I need to pretend that I have some manners left."

Chuckling, the seneschal nodded and retrieved a robe of his own from the wardrobe, to cover his nakedness, before pouring his own long overdue glass of wine. Soon he had served them both the piping hot food and attacked his plate with relish. "I find that I am thankful, for the journeys I take through Ennor," he said. "There is nothing to enhance the appreciation for delicious food like two months' eating next to nothing else than lembas."

"It is long, since I myself went to Lorinand," Erestor agreed, seeing how easily this subject brought his thoughts back to Estelwen. "Did she...manage well, her journey thence?"

"Yes," answered Glorfindel simply. "I learned something about your assistant, for she saved my life once."

"What?!" Nothing like this had come to his ears, and it was all he could do not to drop his eating utensils.

The seneschal nodded thoughtfully, chewing his food. "There were orcs, near the Redhorn Pass. Which as we all know, is not the unusual occurrence we would like it to be. I killed them off, or so I thought. But one came from behind me, and I was unawares. Estelwen killed it. A single throw, right through the eye. Perfect aim and release point. It reminded me of you."

Erestor digested this news over several swallows of wine. "You said...she spoke of me?"

Glorfindel did not look up from slicing his piece of rabbit, knowing that he had to tread very carefully. His head was already reeling, that he alone held the knowledge that his two friends were destined for each other, physically if not in any other manner. "Mmmm hmmmm," he agreed, waiting until he had swallowed to properly respond. "I have heard you complimented for your abilities before. But never by one who shares your interests and your aptitudes. I do not think I realized the depths of your skills, Erestor, but I now consider myself to have been schooled. Estelwen holds you in the highest regard. I know that when I left Lórien, I left someone fully determined to please her Lord."

Erestor watched Glorfindel carefully, knowing that this could not have been all they talked about. Not for two months, walking side by side each minute. "What is she like?"

The golden ellon glanced up in surprise. "You really do not know?" he asked softly. "She is like you, Erestor. She is exactly like you." Worlds were contained in those two sentences, even though Glorfindel knew his friend could not possibly understand the depths of them. 

The movement of the fork to Erestor's mouth was arrested, on hearing the answer.  He paused, lowering it to the plate. "I know you do not break confidences, Glorfindel, which is why I cannot ask very much of what I long to know. Maybe it is for the best, that way. But...when Estelwen left, she seemed unhappy to hear of the assignment, for the briefest of moments. Do you know why, and is it something you can share with me?" He took another deep swallow of wine, now not certain at all that he truly wished to hear the answer. Probably it was something innocuous, or perhaps he had imagined it altogether.

Glorfindel dabbed at his lips with his napkin, regarding his friend very carefully. "I can answer," he said slowly, praying to the Valar that he was not taking a misstep, "for I have been given consent to do so. But I must ask you something first. Do you trust me, Erestor? Do you believe that I would not willingly hurt you, and that I would do whatever I could, to see to your happiness?" 

The Counselor now stared back at him, openmouthed, and visibly swallowed. "Yes, Glorfindel. I do. Your words already tell me that I may not like what I hear, but I did ask. For the kindness you have shown me already this evening, and for the long years of your steadfast friendship, you have earned my trust."

The seneschal smiled. "Thank you, for what you have given. I will answer plainly. Estelwen loves you, though I am not certain even she realizes to what degree. She does not believe you have any interest in her whatsoever, yet the perception that she was being sent away from you grieved her terribly. I followed her, when she sought solitude at a strange time of the day, when you told her of your assignment. It took many weeks, but she eventually told me the reason for what I had seen."

Erestor sat, transfixed by what he had just heard, and for many long seconds did not move or speak. "I love her, Glorfindel. I will not insult your intelligence, by demurring or pretending there are other reasons for my question. And yet," he said with a heavy heart, "what does it matter in the end? You have seen me. I could not...we could never..."

"My friend, would you confide in me? What happened to you, Erestor? For surely there is a reason, you hide yourself away. It cannot only be your...endowments. Were you hurt, by another?"

"May I please have more wine?" The dark eyes were pleading.

"Of course. I am sorry," Glorfindel said as he poured, "for causing you pain. But you will feel better, in the end, to unburden yourself."

The dark ellon nodded. "Would you...sit with me? I have never spoken of this to another and though it may seem foolish to you, it is very hard, for me."

For an answer, Glorfindel rose and guided  Erestor to the sofa, where he sat and held him close. The tiniest part of him still had thoughts for the baked apple, but that would be the eternal elfling in him. So he listened, as Erestor related the brief and tragic sum of his love life.

"How old are you, Erestor?" He stroked the beautiful black hair tenderly.

"Old enough to grieve what I have lost, and young enough to still have foolish hopes," came the bitter answer.

Glorfindel's hold on him tightened. "Your hopes are not foolish, Erestor. Have faith, and courage."

"No elleth in their right mind would want me, Glorfindel. I could not bear to hurt Estelwen, emotionally or physically. And that seems to be all I am good for."

The golden elf squeezed his eyes shut. There were matters to which he did not wish to admit, just now. _But how to work around this?_ "Then I will tell you plainly, you are wrong. I will prove it to you, since you leave me with no choice. I told you earlier, there is always a way. When two people have loving and willing hearts, they do not turn aside from each other, Erestor. They find a means. This, my friend, is what you have never had. Someone truly loving, someone who views you as more than the sum of your anatomy. Do not make a decision that affects the happiness of you and another based on what you imagine the other person believes or wants. And what I want, my friend, is to offer myself to you. I want you to understand what it is, to find completion in the body of another who welcomes you. Who appreciates you. Who loves you for your kind heart and gentle spirit."

Erestor looked up, his eyes filled with trepidation. "But I will hurt you, Glorfindel, and I do not wish to."

"Maybe a little. But not if we take our time, and communicate. Please? For I will not be happy, until you consent." For emphasis, he leaned down to kiss the deep pink lips, that surrendered with alacrity. Their path led back to the bed, where slowly, amidst many kisses and touches, they returned to arousal. Erestor knew that he must prepare his partner as others had prepared him, when Glorfindel signaled his readiness for this by raising and spreading his legs, offering access to that hidden place. Oil and careful fingers tentatively breached the entrance, eliciting moans of enjoyment from an appreciative ellon. "Do you know where....yesssss," Glorfindel hissed, as Erestor's long and dexterous fingers found that small place within him. "Please, he gasped, his eyes glazed with lust. "More."

Erestor complied, filled with gratitude for what was happening. Though, as he looked down at the girth of his member, he still wondered how, exactly, this would not hurt his friend terribly. He knew the sting of being breached in this manner. And yet, the more he gently rubbed and stretched this place, the more the blue eyes looked back at him with trust, and love. 

"Now prepare yourself, and join with me," Glorfindel pleaded.

Erestor nodded, placing kisses across the generous chest, stopping to oil his shaft and that neglected member belonging to his friend. He did not have to be told, as he placed himself at the entrance, to go very slowly. Glorfindel, for his part, opened his heart and his spirit fully to Erestor. There was some discomfort, at first, but soon enough the widest part of him had fully breached the sensitive entrance. "Please, more," Glorfindel begged. "Slowly."  Here, too, the dark elf complied, gasping at the incomparable feel of being inside the body of another. Large hands reached to his hips, guiding him, pulling him inside, until at last he was fully sheathed. Once there, strong arms encircled him, holding him close with their bodies as one. "You did not hurt me, melethron. It is a joy, to have you within me."

"For this alone, thank you," Erestor whispered. "Thank you." 

"Oh you are far from done here," Glorfindel smiled mischievously. "Let me feel you now, Erestor. We are together. You will not hurt me. Share yourself with me." Strong hands once again guided him, teaching him. Erestor moved now, giving himself permission to release his passion. And what a passion it was...Glorfindel had thought that he would be offering a favor, and little more. He was swiftly proven wrong, when skilled thrusts were accompanied with that delicate and creamy hand wrapping around his own length, goading him on to new heights with each passing second. For he had never been filled as he was now being filled, and instead of the expected discomfort he was being driven mad with pleasure unlooked for. His appreciation came in the form of incessant soft moans and words of encouragement. "For one who has had so little experience...how?...meldir, my body is enthralled to yours. No one has ever made me feel this good...Varda! Please, more," he pleaded.

Erestor perceived he was not being lied to, nor trifled with. He felt the tremors of enjoyment passing through the giant frame beneath him. And for the first time, there was joy. He _was_ being proven wrong, though his mind still struggled to believe it. The pace quickened; Erestor's motions were now with abandon. Both gave themselves fully until Glorfindel went rigid beneath him, gasping softly as his semen burst onto his chest and belly. The spasms of his lover pulled Erestor into bliss, as he collapsed onto his much larger friend, senseless in his experience of pleasure. The two held each other, as the throes of their ecstasy diminished. Bodies parted, amidst grumbles of disappointment, as Erestor's softening member slipped out of the golden Lord. 

"That was incomparable," Glorfindel breathed quietly. "I pray that this will not be the last time you will share my bed, Erestor. I have never met the likes of you. You are beautiful, meldir, in every way."

"As are you, my friend." He reached elegant fingers to trace the contours of Glorfindel's surpassingly handsome countenance. The brilliant blue eyes, framed by perfect brows and strong yet elegant cheekbones. His was an expression of perfect masculinity, strength, and power. And yet he had proven that he was first and foremost filled with kindness, and a generous heart. "Tonight, you have taught the scholar a lesson, and it is one I promise not to forget. I cannot say that I will change all of my ways. But at least with you, I will be more open."

Glorfindel propped himself up on one elbow, tracing his own fingers down the perfect, creamy skin of his lover. "At least with me and _one other_ , I hope you mean," he said, pressing the point home. "I do not feel I can say more, just now. Trust me, Erestor. There is always hope."

The scholar stared back at him, and a small nod of his head followed. "I will do as you ask. And now I find that I am hungry for your baked apples, after all," he grinned, his demeanor suddenly changing.

Laughing loudly, Glorfindel scooped the smaller ellon into his arms. "First, a bath, Then dessert. Perhaps we are not so different as I had imagined," he teased, amused beyond words to learn that their meal had not come to grief after all.

"As you wish it," Erestor smiled, resting his head against the strong shoulder that bore him away.


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains a scene of M/F sexual intercourse with dubious consent.

{a year later}

Estelwen reached for the scroll in front of her. This was it. The last work remaining to be copied, and she estimated that one week yet would be required to complete her task. Twenty cycles of the moon had passed, since she began her labors at this assignment. Master Salfir had proven to be insightful and possessed of keen intelligence, though she privately felt her own Master had his same aptitudes in far greater abundance. New friends had been made, that she found would be difficult to leave. All in the Golden Wood had treated her kindly and with deference, even its great Lord and Lady. 

One day, some months ago, she had been walking amidst the great mellyrn trees, as had become her habit in the hours she had to call her own. To Estelwen, these trees had become her friends just as much as the elven inhabitants of these woods. To have witnessed them throughout nearly two years of their growth had been an unparalleled privilege for which she had not been prepared. When she watched them turn golden in Firith, it was a beauty that tore at her spirit. But in spring, when the leaves had fallen at last and the trees burst forth in a symphony of new green leaves and golden flowers...there were not words for her feelings. There had been times, in solitude, when she leaned against their smooth gray trunks and wept for the loveliness of the woods around her and questioned many things about her life, her dreams, and her wishes. She had felt so sure that Imladris was the only place for her, but was that true? Might she perhaps be better off here, where she was honored and accepted as well, far off from the torment of her hopeless attraction to her Master? Such thoughts as these had overtaken her as she walked alone, only to find that she was not alone at all.

"You heart and mine feel the same, in this," the Lady Galadriel had murmured, as she had appeared suddenly alongside. "All of the Galadhrim love the mellyrn with a great love. And yet some feel it so much more than others. As do I. As do you."

Kind blue eyes smiled into her own, as Estelwen bowed her head in respect even as a sense of her own transparency enveloped her awareness. Everyone had heard tell of the powers of the Lady, and that little was hidden from her. "Yes," Estelwen answered. "It will grieve me now, to leave. The truth is, I no longer know where my heart lies, my Lady," she confessed humbly. There was no point in dissembling. Not to the Lady of the Golden Wood.

"Then I have a gift for you, young Estelwen." A necklace on a fine chain appeared in her hand, with a remarkable pendant. Aquamarine gemstones set into the shape of an iris flower there were, set into fine gold. "Do you know the lore of flowers, and gems? These are beryls," she told, with her eyes sparkling.

Estelwen lowered her eyes. "Hope. Iris and beryls both symbolize Hope."

"Remember that, Estelwen," Galadriel admonished as she clasped the chain around her neck. "Remember that there is always hope."

Despite her efforts to stop it, a single tear streaked down her cheek. "Yes, my Lady. I will remember. And thank you, for what you have graciously given."

A kiss was placed on her forehead, even as a strong thumb brushed away her tear. "The Valar watch over us all. It is not always easy to perceive, or believe. But in my long life I have learned that they have compassion, and guide us to our happiness, if only we will listen," she said wryly.

Estelwen felt a burden lift. Though she would not place words into the gracious Lady's mouth, she felt that she was being assured of some sort of contentment or peace, should she return home. But it would not change that she now understood, there were many ways to have love, and joy.

As she sat, reflecting, her fingers traced over the pendant at her neck, a gift she cherished and never removed. Which is when Haldir walked in, presenting her with the offering of a cup of tea. Though, all was not as it appeared to be, with his simple gift. Glorfindel had explained, about Estelwen, to Haldir before he departed. And Haldir had faithfully and kindly offered to spend time with her, both platonically and otherwise. They had grown to be fast friends as well as lovers, and the Marchwarden understood and respected her unique fears. Their most private encounters had been arranged by this very simple signal; an evening which he had the liberty to share with her was made known by the offer of a cup of tea. If she accepted, she would drink from the cup almost immediately while making innocent conversation. To refuse, or declare that she was not available, she would not touch the beverage until he had departed. It was a simple and extremely discreet manner by which to communicate.

 Knowing that her time was short, she gratefully sipped the fragrant beverage right away; and that meant that when it was fully dark, he would appear in her talan. They would then decide how to spend their time together;  it had in the past included everything from long walks on his arm as far as the hill that would one day become Cerin Amroth, to sharing their bodies through the night. Haldir had proven to be as kind and attentive a lover as Glorfindel, but in his own way. Estelwen found much to appreciate in the Marchwarden. He had the heart of a warrior, but the soul of a poet. Complex, gentle, intelligent, and most importantly for her, filled with kindness and care that found the best in others without seemingly being aware of shortcomings. Haldir, too, brought out her confidence and the best in her willingness to please a partner. Not to mention, he had gently schooled her at the many options available for loving a male, while demonstrating to her that having an ellon inside her womanhood was but one of many paths to physical enjoyment. Her self-esteem blossomed under his care, and he had become a treasured friend.

When the time came for them to meet, Estelwen told Haldir that her task was nearly completed. "What am I to do, meldir? How do I return home?"

"Are you so eager to leave us?" Haldir said with a mock pout.

"You know I am not, my Lord Marchwarden," she teased back before her demeanor became earnest. "There was a time not so long ago, Haldir, when I wondered if I should return at all. But the Lady spoke to me..." Estelwen now fingered the pendant at her neck. "I believe she meant to tell me that my future lies elsewhere. But do not think that you will not be missed, or fail to be a welcome sight to my eyes."

"Ah," he said sagely, with a half smile. "That is an entirely different matter, then. I will not tease you about this any longer, Estelwen, though I too will miss you once you have gone. And to answer your question...I am not supposed to share such information, ordinarily, but in this case I cannot see that there is any harm in it. It would seem that your progress has long been noted and accounted for by Master Salfir. Glorfindel was dispatched weeks ago, to escort you home. When he arrives, and has taken some rest, then you will depart."

"And what is your desire this evening, my Lord?"

"My melethril," he murmured, lowering his head to claim her rosy lips as a callused hand reached to cup her bottom.

Willingly she yielded, as he carried her to her bed and slowly unwrapped her, like the gift he believed her to be. 

*****

Rúmil and Orophin searched all the usual haunts of Caras Galadhon for the whereabouts of their brother, without success. "This is not the first time we have been unable to find him," said Rúmil, annoyed. 

"Well, he does have many ways to spend his evenings; this is hardly a secret," Orophin replied.

"Yes, but we have met all of those ways and know their names, and have always been able to find him when we wished. Where in Eru's creation *is* he, is what I wish to know."

"He has been seen occasionally walking with Estelwen," Orophin pondered. "Perhaps he is better acquainted with her than we know?"

"That glacier? Surely you jest. Our brother has no need for the company of some frigid disciple of Erestor, when he has so many other more inviting options."

"Yes, perhaps," Orophin persisted. "But I have often tried to impress upon you, Rúmil, that there is a _reason_ that our brother enjoys so much richer of an intimate life than yourself.  For starters, he would never speak in such a manner of an honored elleth or ellon, as your acerbic tongue is ever wont to do. Haldir is kind, and generous of spirit. And because of it he is *loved*. He also does not fill his belly with wine at most every opportunity. Do with that what you will. I am going now to the barracks to enjoy some fellowship; I am not on duty until tomorrow at noon. Will I have your company?"

"No, you will not," Rúmil said sourly as they parted ways. There was quite an easy means, to determine if his brother was indeed with Estelwen of Imladris. And he meant to find out. As he silently moved through the city toward the scribe's talan, he fumed at the rebuke from Orophin. He had enjoyed more than a fair share of bed partners, and thought highly enough of his own skills in that regard. It was hardly deserved, then, for him to be criticized in such a manner. At the base of the tree in question, he stood, silent, listening. His trained ears caught the faintest noises from above, but this was not enough to be certain. With the absolute stealth granted to him by years of disciplined training and woodcraft, he ascended the ladder that brought him to the curtained doorway of Estelwen's quarters. Just in time to hear what could only be an elleth's soft cry of sexual ecstasy, as she called out her lover's name: "Haldir!" 

With a twisted smile, Rúmil descended just as noiselessly, to ponder this new discovery.

*****

Six days later, and Estelwen laid down her quill. It was done. Rising from her seat to stretch cramped muscles and flex stiff joints, she paced slowly around the scriptorium of Lothlórien, and smiled. _I have done as you asked, Master. I pray you will be pleased with my work._ The ink had to thoroughly dry and there was nothing further to be gained, here. A walk under the mellyrn was the least she could give herself, as a reward for the completion of her efforts. Wrapping her cloak around her delicate shoulders, she slowly made her way down the many descending stairs of this stunning city in the trees. A voice at her side startled her out of her reverie.

"Estelwen, is it not?"

Raising her head, she recognized Rúmil, who she since had learned was Haldir's brother. "Mae govannen, Rúmil. Yes, it is. I am sorry, that we have not seen each other since the day of our meeting. I could hardly have left a favorable impression at that time." She knew nothing of Haldir's brothers beyond that they both served as soldiers under the command of their Marchwarden, but by association was favorably disposed toward them. 

"Then perhaps you will allow me the opportunity to make amends, for that day. It was not my intention, to frighten you."

"I took no offense," she said kindly, smiling prettily up at him. "I am no warrior, as is obvious, and was unprepared to find myself in such circumstances. You were only doing your duty."

"Then perhaps you would consent to enjoy a walk with me, later? I can promise a pleasant if simple dinner, and some wine to share?"

Estelwen grinned happily. "I should enjoy that very much."

"Meet me then at the time Anor is no longer visible through the trees, at the path leading to the Garden of Memory."

"I shall, and thank you, Rúmil." Happily, she continued her walk until the appointed time, and found the ellon at the promised location.

"You are prompt," he said approvingly, with a charming smile. His appearance was like, yet unlike, that of Haldir. They shared the same color of pale golden hair, but Rúmil's eyes were more of a hazel color. And while he was taller, his features were somewhat more angular and less pleasing to the eye than that of her melethron, at least to her tastes. Not of course, that Estelwen was so shallow; his appearance was in no way held against him. Her dainty fingers took the courteously offered arm, and by way of conversation she asked him to speak of his life as a soldier. 

Surprised and well-fortified by having already consumed plenty of wine, he obliged, thinking more and more to himself that he had perhaps greatly misjudged his brother's tastes. This elleth was sweet and delicate, and desirable. He talked at length of their patrols, their constant vigilance against the orcs that could threaten their borders, continuing on when he found a suitable place far from prying eyes to spread a cloth on the ground and offer her food and wine. Rúmil drank less while pouring her more, until he deemed she had had enough to suit his aspirations. 

"I....am afraid the wine is stronger than I knew," she said, laughing at how pleasant everything appeared to be, Rúmil included.

She felt his fingers on her face, tilting her chin up. "You are very beautiful, Estelwen. Has anyone told you that?" 

A giggle and a blush were the only replies she gave, and when his lips brushed hers, she instinctively returned the gesture. In a happy haze, she welcomed his hands under her tunic and moaned softly when the fabric was lifted to reveal ample breasts to his eager mouth. Estelwen was soon laid bare to him, under the starlight, and Rúmil admired the sight of her perfect but diminutive form.  Before she had any chance to fully reflect on her choices in her drunken state, he moved between her legs and covered her body with his. Only a slight gasp of surprise gave any indication that she understood having been breached, and that he was thrusting into her vigorously. Rúmil was not so well-endowed as his brother, and Estelwen could only frown in confusion as what felt like...well, not nearly enough, had been placed inside of her. Rúmil, for his part, quickly grew frustrated, and wine-soaked vexation erupted. "What in Arda does my brother see in you?" he asked, unable to gain release and pulling out of her. Reaching down, he fondled her cleft as he stroked himself, until his emission spurted onto her bare breasts. Disoriented and now ill at ease, she began to cry.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. His lust was satisfied, and all the bitterness that lived within him rose to the surface. "Valar, I have had enough of you for one evening. Go back to your books in Imladris, Estelwen. You are a disappointment wrapped in a pretty package." With that Rúmil stood up, grabbed his clothing, and stormed off.

Shaking with anger, humiliation and confusion, there was little recourse at the moment and she knew it. She cleaned herself as best she could, wiping off his ejaculate with green grasses, revolted to the point of being sick by the smell of him. Which is exactly what happened. With a violent series of retches, her stomach emptied. Somehow she worked her way back into her clothing, and prayed to find the pathway to the city. What time it was when she finally found herself  at her quarters, she could not say, but Ithil was high overhead. Dizzy, and with a splitting headache, she ascended the ladder. Much of the way up, her vision went black and the last thing she would remember is the sound of someone else screaming, and the sensation of falling.

*****

"Estelwen! Estelwen! Meldis, please, speak to me!"

Pain was everywhere. Her head. Her arm. Her leg. But the voice... "Glo'fin'l?" Some part of her felt shocked at the incoherence her ears heard coming from her own mouth. But Varda, the pain...

"Do not move, meldis. I will care for you. Lie still." A warm cloak covered her, and with great difficulty Estelwen worked to remain awake. 

There were voices, and at some point she felt herself being lifted. These arms she trusted. In these arms, she knew she was safe. "Glo'finnel." The name was spoken in a whisper.

*****

Haldir swept into the barracks to a chorus of guffaws. His eyebrow arched. While some jocularity among his warriors was to be expected, the tone of the room had an emotional undercurrent that was cavalier bordering on outright disrespect. "And what is so amusing, this morning?" His tone of voice was that perfect median between humor and open ire.

"You, brother," came the taunt from an obviously drunk Rúmil. "I decided to sample your little morsel last night, and I have to say your taste has obviously taken a turn for the worse."

"Use care, Rúmil. Brother or not, your disrespect will not be tolerated and your comments are patently offensive." His voice was now glacial, as his fiery temper ran to the forefront.

"So be it, *brother*," Rúmil snarled back. "If tumbling with Estelwen is your idea of time well spent, I suppose it is no business of mine. After all, you are the lofty Marchwarden, and I am merely your lowly Captain. I merely thought you would find better than an elleth so sloppy that a stallion could not fill her."

In one fluid motion, Haldir grabbed his brother by the collar and smashed him across the face, enraged. Rúmil crumpled, insensible from the force of the blow. "Everyone here should listen very carefully," Haldir said, his eyes ablaze with wrath. "If I ever hear one word about Estelwen spoken inside or outside these barracks, there will be demotion, a year of doubled patrols, and halved wages _TO START WITH_ ," he bellowed. "If any of those who have heard my brother's drunken disgrace are elsewhere repeating his words, then they can pray to the Valar that one of you comes along in time to silence them. Because I will find out any who spread this malice, and I will hold each one of you accountable. Merely for listening to him, and encouraging him, you have shown yourselves unfit for the service of the rulers of this Wood.  Rúmil is to be placed under arrest and held, pending the judgement of the Lord and Lady; he is no longer your Captain. There is no place for this base unkindness anywhere among our people, and I am deeply ashamed to call you my comrades-in-arms." Turning on his heel, he stormed out the door leaving a sea of pale and stricken faces in his wake. But his only thought was for sweet Estelwen, and what had happened to her.

It did not take long, for Haldir's path to end at the doors of the Healing Hall, where the giant seneschal of Imladris was beside himself with distress. "Meldir! No one can tell me what happened, least of all Estelwen."

Haldir's eyes grew wide. "She is hurt?"

Glorfindel nodded miserably. "I only just arrived after dawn, having chosen to walk under the starlight. I had thought to surprise her. The surprise was mine, to find her insensible at the base of her talan's ladder. Somehow she fell, Haldir. There are injuries, and she is in great pain."

Haldir's face flushed dark with anger. He was forced to sit, to attempt to master himself.

"Haldir?"

The Marchwarden shook his head. "I must keep my self-control, Glorfindel, or the blood of my kin will be on my hands. I must know more, lest I draw false conclusions. The struggle to see justice done must win out over my anger, or I am not deserving of the trust placed in me."

Their discussion was interrupted by one of the Healers. "We have done all we can to make her comfortable. An arm was broken in two places and now is set, and she took a blow to the head. Her ankle is badly sprained. Medication has been given her, for the pain. She will need rest, and care, but will fully recover," the elleth said sympathetically. "It is very fortunate, that her injuries were not more serious. Lord Glorfindel, she is asking for you."

The two ellyn barely fit through the door frame at the same time, in their hurry to reach her side. When she saw them both, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I am so sorry," she whispered. "I am afraid that I have ruined everything." Her eyes were downcast.

"No, Estelwen. You have ruined nothing. It is I, who am sorry," said Haldir. "And I must ask you, though I know it will not be easy for you to tell. You were with my brother last night, and it is necessary that I hear everything. You must understand, Rúmil has broken our laws and is under arrest. Much depends on your truthful answer. Glorfindel also will bear witness to your words."

Estelwen nodded and closed her eyes, reaching to hold Glorfindel's hand before she began. Slowly, carefully, she recounted everything she could remember. Remembering her training, she spoke with careful objectivity, clarifying her feelings versus what she believed had factually transpired. When she finished, her eyes were filled with regret and humiliation. "Please forgive me," she asked. "I feel as though I have done wrong, although, the reasoning part of my mind fails to see what I could have done differently. I did not think for a moment that a brother of yours would..." Tears pooled in her eyes. 

All of Glorfindel's self-control was needed, for what came next. Inside, he was all but shaking with rage, but he did not permit any of that to show through. Instead he carefully caressed her face with his hand. "Meldis, you did nothing wrong. Wrong was done to you, grievously, not the other way around. I love you. Haldir loves you. Neither of us thinks less of you. You are beautiful and generous and sweet and this never should have happened. Sleep now, knowing that your heart is safe with us."

A smile crept onto her lips as she moaned from a stab of discomfort in her arm. "I love you both, so much..." mercifully, she drifted off to sleep. 

Glorfindel placed a long and careful kiss to her forehead, imparting a little of what virtue was granted to him. "For happier thoughts, dear Estelwen."

Haldir's hand had been laid across her shoulder in reassurance, but his face he had kept turned aside as he listened, knowing that he could not govern his features as could Glorfindel. He rose. "We are not done yet. Or at least, I am not. I am going now to seek out what evidence may remain of this encounter, and then I will determine if that miserable sack of orc dung known as my brother can yet be made to speak. I am sickened, that it is left to me to determine whether this was a liaison gone wrong or an ellon who has all but violated another." Haldir left, unable to remain still one moment longer. He knew that the golden Lord was choosing to come with him. "I have no resources for this, meldir. That one of my own flesh and blood could have deliberately caused another to be drunk only to half-force himself on her..."

"Estelwen never said that she told him 'No,' Haldir."

"Estelwen also did not say that he ever asked her consent. He brought her to a secluded place, not the other way around. He offered her wine and reduced her to drunkenness, not the other way around. But there are many details I do not understand. And there is more that you do not know, and that I fear to tell you."

Glorfindel's jaw took on a very hard set, as he worked to contain his emotions. "Then let us go, and see what there is to be seen."

Using the details Estelwen provided, the combined skills of the two ellyn allowed for their arrival at the place where the picnic occurred. Estelwen's account seemed borne out by the fact that the basket in which their food was brought had been left behind, along with the bottles of wine and the cloth on which they had sat. Obvious too was the torn grass she had used to clean herself from the insult she had been offered. 

"Come here, Haldir," Glorfindel said, pointing to the wine cups. "What is that...residue, that is in these cups? Do you see it?"

Haldir lifted the vessel, carefully, smelling. With his moistened pinkie finger, he dabbed up some of it and placed it on his tongue. Every elf who had ever been injured knew that taste. "Sleeping draught," he spat. "Varda, Glorfindel. This is my brother, my own flesh and blood. How could this happen? He caused her injuries just as surely as if he had beaten her, and that does not even begin to discuss the other. How am I to ever..." Words failed him.

"You are not anything, Haldir," Glorfindel said, packing up the objects into the basket. "Though I have no official authority here, I have witnessed evidence of a crime against one of the charges of Lord Elrond. This alone gives me the grounds to directly approach your Lord and Lady, and I intend to use it. Plus, my friend," he added, his words somewhat softer now, "were this same matter in Imladris, I would be under compulsion to surrender any remaining action to another. You cannot be expected to endure the heartbreak of prosecution against your own brother. There are limits to the impartiality any elf can be expected to display, even one so upright as yourself."

"Either way I have lost my brother." Grief filled his voice as he hung his head in shame. "I do not mean to diminish what befell Estelwen. None of this was her fault and arguably, part of it was my doing. That she trusted him so much was on account of...me."

"No," came the firm retort. "You will not start down this path, meldir. What was done, was Rúmil's doing. And he alone must answer for it." Strong arms embraced Haldir, sharing his sorrow. Was there not enough evil in the world outside, without such as this coming from within their midst? With a large hand held firmly to his friend's shoulder, he steered him to return. 

The seneschal of Imladris insisted on reporting to the Lord and Lady as soon as he could be received. With respect, Glorfindel stated the facts as he knew them, and related Estelwen's words with Haldir as his heartbroken witness. 

Before he was three-quarters done,  Celeborn had risen, and was pacing, his face a mask of growing fury. Galadriel gazed down, remaining silent. When Glorfindel finished, there was more to add. Haldir now spoke, relating with visible pain what he had encountered in the barracks, hearing the hitch in Glorfindel's breathing at his side. At the finish of it, there was only silence, and both ellyn made to withdraw, only to hear the Lady speak: "Wait."

With heads bowed in respect, they waited, even as a shaft of late afternoon sunshine illuminated the cascading petals of the falling mallorn blossoms above them. "You will both accompany Estelwen to Imladris, when she is able to depart. In time you will understand why. And you, Haldir; it is my desire that your heart have time to seek its own healing."  The Marchwarden bent his knee before rising, too grief-stricken to protest.

Now it was the Lord Celeborn's turn to speak. "Marchwarden, your service to our Realm has been exemplary. As have been your efforts on behalf of your brothers. I am removing you from any further oversight of this matter. In two hours' time Rúmil is summoned here." Turning to one of the guards stationed at the Great Talan, he nodded curtly. "If Rúmil needs to be given a river of miruvor in order to speak, so be it. See to it." The silver-haired Lord's gaze returned to Glorfindel and Haldir. "To be present or absent when Rúmil is brought here is your decision. Should you choose to come, I will remind you that nothing less than the highest decorum will be expected of you both. If you cannot set your emotions aside, remain at a distance. You may take your leave."

With deep bows of courtesy, they withdrew. "I am going to Estelwen, Haldir. Come if you wish. But if you do, what you see must never be spoken of."  Haldir remained silent, still badly disturbed by all that had transpired. They each sat at her bedside, and the sight moved Glorfindel to tears. A deep, purpling bruise was spreading around her eye and cheek. Though she was asleep, grimaces darkened her face. "Haldir, your word. Else I must ask you to leave for a brief time."

"You have it," the Marchwarden whispered. "Forgive me, I..." 

"Peace, meldir. It is well," Glorfindel tried to smile through his own distress. Bending over, he carefully took Estelwen into his arms, and placed a kiss on her forehead, lingering there as he prayed. He did not often make use of what he had been granted, for he often felt that he was a dichotomy. In his boots walked a staunch defender and warrior, yet a side of him was also given to healing the hurts of others. Not usually in a physical sense, but rather to be a balm to wounds to the spirit. Here there were both, dealt out in cruel injustice. The seneschal prayed for her, his light blazing forth. He gave gladly of himself, to remove some of her suffering. Estelwen did not wake still, but when she was laid down her bruise had faded noticeably, and her features held only a soft smile.

"So it is true," Haldir said, close to speechless at what he had witnessed.

"Do you mean to tell me that I have more than one reputation?" Glorfindel asked wryly.

"Something like that." Haldir took Estelwen's hand. "I fear for what this will do to her, Glorfindel, after all you have told me. It is as though this was her first attempt to test out what seemed to be her increasing comfort and confidence with herself, only to meet with exactly what created the problem in the first place, and worse besides. And now she will go back to Erestor, bearing this burden. It tears at me to think on it."

"She told you, then, of her feelings of attachment?"

Haldir nodded, smiling crookedly. "I was not made to feel other than appreciated, but it is obvious who she truly wishes to have. I did my best to care for her, Glorfindel, as you asked. And it was no difficulty. This small elleth is a delight, in every way. Vairë smiles on the one who captures her heart."

With a slow nod, Glorfindel signaled his agreement, only now noticing the gold chain around her neck. He lifted it carefully in his fingers, his features breaking into a grin. "From you, dear friend? Our Estelwen has gone high in your esteem, indeed."

"No, not me. She would not speak of it, except to tell me that it was a gift of our Lady. Something...changed, Glorfindel. I believe there was a time when Estelwen seriously considered not returning.  Our tiny elleth did well here, and earned great respect. She made new friends, and was held in high regard by...most all. Whatever was said to her by Galadriel pointed her back toward Imladris."

The seneschal did not respond, but committed the words to memory.  Closing his eyes, he remembered his last night with Erestor, before departing on the long journey to come here. To know the detached and cool Counselor at a meeting, versus the fearful and anxious ellon that struggled to compose his feelings in the face of his assistant's return; the study of contrasts could not have been greater.

*****

Rúmil came to with a searing pain in his jaw, as he tried to piece together why he was in a cell. He did not have long to wait. Three guards came, accompanied by a Healer.

"Are you feeling cooperative, Rúmil?" Haradir was in no mood for games, having been disgusted up one side and down the other by the events of the day.

"That's _Captain_ Rúmil, to you," he said painfully. 

Haradir's eyebrows shot up. "I can see your day is about to get worse, then, if you cannot even recall your demotion. This Healer is here to check on you and give miruvor. You are to drink it. I strongly suggest you do as you are asked." A nod of the head signaled the other guards to admit the ellon.

Without resistance, he consumed the cordial, wincing as it powerfully burned down his throat. "What...happened?" he asked.

"You genuinely do not remember, *Rúmil*?" Haradir was rather enjoying the plight of his former Captain, who on too many occasions had lorded it over those under his command. "Perhaps I can offer you a one-word reminder: Estelwen. You are to be taken to the Lord and Lady to account for your deeds, may the Valar have mercy on you. Or not. You rarely had any mercy on us," the guard hissed. Nodding to his compatriots, an elegant flick of the wrist gave the command. "Get him out of here."

Those who escorted the bound elf were only too happy to enlighten Rúmil as to the words he had spoken and the state of Estelwen's injuries, and the fury of both the Marchwarden and the seneschal of Imladris. What fragments he could remember caused him to recall enough to know that he had fallen into serious trouble. He had always known a day of reckoning might come, for him. But it was always easier to push his problems to the nether end of a bottle of wine than to face them. And now, ascending the last few steps of the Great Talan, he knew that he faced almost certain banishment.

*****

At Haldir's insistence, he and Glorfindel lingered in the shadows, only arriving to the proceedings once Rúmil was thrown down bound onto his knees before his Lord and Lady. Haldir did not want his brother to know of their presence, lest it affect his words. Commanded by a wrathful Celeborn, Rúmil found that as he looked up and found his eyes caught by Galadriel, that something inside of him simply shattered, and in that moment he no longer mattered. His confessions ranged from his voyeurism of his brother's intimate activities to the sleeping draught he had placed in all of the wine, not only Estelwen's. Because it lowered inhibitions and increased...enjoyment. "There is no excuse for me," Rúmil said with humility found much too late. "I simmered my heart in envy of my brother and gave way to bitterness and drink. I have lost my way. None of this helps Estelwen, who I have wronged. Or what is left of my family, whose good names I have besmirched." He fell silent, still unable to break from Galadriel's gaze. Tears of pain now streamed out of his eyes, that Celeborn ignored.

"You make no plea on your own behalf?"

"I showed no compassion to Estelwen or many others, and now I deserve none, my Lord."

Glorfindel had heard enough. Haldir was at the point of breaking, silent tears splashing down his cheeks, and an arm of unmatchable strength steered him away from the scene unfolding before them. And still Galadriel's eyes blazed into Rúmil's, until he became a fragile blade of grass that withered under the desert sun.


	10. Ten

{Ten days later}

When the first pink light of dawn tinted the sky, the three of them left. Estelwen had only her few things, and the Lady's gift. Haldir and Glorfindel shared carrying the precious manuscripts, which had been placed into protective leather as well as more cloth, and then an oilskin to ward off any chance of disaster short of a knapsack being dropped into a river. And as they were not crossing any rivers of substance on this return journey, it was that much less likely. Haldir had a walking-stick fashioned for Estelwen, which helped her. Though her sprain had healed, there was yet discomfort with much exercise and it was yet kept bound to help support the joint. It was recommended that the binding on her broken arm remain in place for another ten days to two weeks. Though, the Healers were baffled at the rate at which she had healed. Privately Estelwen suspected that she had been helped, though she would not ask him. For whatever reason, her friend was beyond reserved about this blessing that was his to confer. It mattered not; and did not change her gratitude.

Haldir had been quiet, since her accident. Estelwen had tried to process what had happened, when she learned the full details of what Rúmil had done to her. The night before their departure, Haldir had been summoned to the Lady Galadriel, and was handed an unsealed letter among other documents to convey to Lord Elrond. He still did not know Rúmil's fate. "It is time that you and I spoke, Haldir. For I know that if you leave us as matters now sit, your spirit will find no rest or refreshment in your time away from here. I will speak frankly. Celeborn wished to banish your brother, and I refused to agree to this. However, Rúmil's fate lies now ultimately with...Rúmil. Your brother is in my keeping, and I promise to do all in my power before I turn my back on him.  I will not deceive you; he faces a long and arduous road to return to any sort of good standing among us. He is brokenhearted and repentant, but...this is not really the first expression of unkindness or lack of any empathy toward the hurt of another, is it?"

"No," whispered Haldir, his eyes cast down. "When we lost our mother, it was hardest on Rúmil. He was the youngest of us. Only seven years of age. I do not make excuses for him, Lady. I did my best, to love and teach my brothers. But Rúmil became....it is my belief that he wanted to be me, and when that did not come easily for him, he grew angry. My best was not good enough." He buried his face in his hands, ashamed to have so little control over his emotions. "I am sorry," he choked out.

"No, Haldir. We are family, and family help each other." That Galadriel had some understanding of the trials he had faced in raising his younger brothers alone did not alter Haldir's sense of devastation. During these events Orophin had been out on patrol, and knew nothing of what had transpired. He would not see his brother for months, and the letter he had left in Orophin's talan that tried to explain all that transpired seemed a very, very poor substitute.

"If you can, please tell Rúmil that I love him. What happened does not change that he is my family. I am deeply disappointed and...so many feelings, but...I would give up everything, to see him whole and sound in mind and heart."

Galadriel nodded, her mysterious smile gracing him. Haldir looked at his hands, and the letter she had placed there. "Lady, what is this?"

"It is Rúmil's apology to Estelwen. If and when you can give it to her. It is unsealed for a reason; it is expected that you and Glorfindel will read it first. Remember, there is always hope." Reaching forward, she pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Know that you are much loved, Haldir." With a bow, and a heavy sigh, he withdrew. 

As he walked along the avenue leading away from Caras Galadhon, the Marchwarden thought from time to time on the letter. He was not yet ready to read it.

As the day wore on, Estelwen struggled more and more, though she tried to hide it. Her leg was becoming sore and she leaned more heavily on the walking stick. 

"Stop," ordered Glorfindel, who wordlessly handed Estelwen's staff to Haldir. Kneeling down, he smiled to the elleth. "You will ride on my back now, meldis. The injury is not fully healed, and I will not see you worn down to abject pain at the start of our journey." A nod and a crooked smile indicated her assent, as she gratefully scrambled to sit high up on his shoulders. A gasp of air accompanied his rising; this felt different than any horse she had ever ridden. But she could balance well enough, and Glorfindel allowed her to keep a hold on his chest with her legs. The slightly awkward part was that Estelwen had to drape his mane of golden hair over her legs, for there was nowhere else for it to go. Her fingers began to comb it, and soon she was giggling as braids were nimbly woven into it. The seneschal smiled. It was the first thing resembling a laugh he had heard from her since her...encounter. Haldir caught the same, and smiled in spite of the weight on his heart that would not lift no matter how much he considered the Lady's words.

An hour later, Haldir turned west. "This way," he said to Glorfindel, who appeared reluctant. 

"Are you sure?"

Haldir rolled his eyes, as he adjusted his bowstring across his chest. "Some Marchwarden I would be, not to know my own woods, O seneschal," he teased. "Yes, I am sure. I know this forest as well as you know Imladris. My guess is that you walked several days' extra distance because of taking the more traveled route. I can have us to the Hithaeglir in a week, at this pace."


	11. Eleven

{Two weeks later}

Estelwen would not allow herself to be carried, once they began the ascent into the Misty Mountains, up to the Redhorn Pass. Though she tried to hide it, her thoughts were filled with fear of more orcs. The constant walking had toughened her, and her injury troubled her less than at the outset of their journey. But one thing was different. Whereas the leagues enroute had been filled with easy companionship and joy, the return journey was often tense, silent. She had not invited either of the ellyn into her body, nor had they made any advances toward her or each other. Rúmil's deed hung like a pall over all their happiness, and none had found the courage yet to bring the topic into open discussion. Haldir particularly felt wretched, for he had not even mentioned Rúmil's unread letter to Glorfindel, nor had he dared open it himself. Every morning he told himself that surely an opportunity would arise that next day, and every sunset when they made camp and took their rest and their small rations, another day had passed. High up in the mountains, a small overhang of rock provided their shelter one evening. Estelwen curled into a ball, shivering under her blanket until she could endure no more. "Please," she whispered to both of them. "I am so cold." This simple statement seemed to break them out of the reverie each had been in for days on end now.

When their arms reached to find her trembling uncontrollably, no words were spoken but they surrounded her, sharing the heat of their bodies. When she finally stopped shaking she cried, silently, knowing there could be no noise. They were her trusted friends and yet something felt so wrong, so...irreparable. Unhappy and confused, she drifted into a troubled sleep. When the first light of dawn broke, Haldir was already awake, and quickly urged them onto their feet. "A storm will come. The pass is but a league and a half distant. We would be wise to make the greatest haste."

The seneschal agreed, and encouraged Estelwen to walk with her blanket over her shoulders for added warmth, until such time as the exercise warmed her. At first she did quite well, keeping up with the pace the ellyn set. But a relatively short distance from the pass at this very rapid pace, her ankle began to throb. It could not be wrapped more tightly than it already was. Glorfindel's agitation concerning the weather was increasing, and he demanded she ride on his shoulders once again. The day was growing darker by the minute, and the two ellyn all but ran ahead as she focused with all her ability on maintaining her seat with as little interference to her friend as possible. They were within yards of the summit of the pass, when the sight she had dreaded above all others appeared in front of them. Another band of orcs, holding the narrow summit against them. Why she was thinking of any of this, she would never be able to say, but from her vantage point almost three feet above Glorfindel's head, she saw that there were ten of them, and only one archer that was already setting an arrow to his bow. Her knife was at her belt. "Glorfindel, turn your body to the left, just a little so that I can get down." The seneschal did as she asked, drawing his sword. But Estelwen did not get down. Instead she made one perfect throw directly into the eye of the archer, felling him. And then she tumbled down off his back, and tried to find some position, any position, behind the two ellyn. Haldir was already firing arrows while Glorfindel was preparing to advance on them when suddenly a heart-stopping blast tore the air. A bolt of lightning flashed onto the rocks above the orcs, sending down four very large boulders, crushing and pinning their foes. Haldir turned to her even as heavy drops of rain began to fall. "Cling to my back, not like you did with Glorfindel. You cannot climb those with your leg and arm, but I can. Hurry." 

Her precious manuscripts inside his knapsack made for something like a seat, after which she wrapped her slender legs around his waist for some kind of purchase while holding onto him as best she could.  Mostly she prayed for their deliverance, and tried with all her might to stifle her fear. "My knife," she cried to Haldir, who saw the blade exposed as had she. Wresting it free, he handed it to her. Grimacing in disgust, she placed it into her belt uncleaned, having no choice. They scrambled over the rocks and fled down the path as fast as they could. All Estelwen could do was hang on, until even doing that became a torment. "Haldir, I cannot hold on any longer," she finally spoke.

"Glorfindel!" The stockier but smaller elf called. Soon she was traded off again, wondering deeply if the Lady had known what she was doing in sending her back. What did Imladris matter, if they all perished getting there?

"There is always hope," she murmured, touching the flat of her hand to her pendant.

The storm cell passed and the day returned to a more benign sort of overcast. They had stopped running. The effect of their hurtling pace throughout the early morning is that they were all but down the mountain by noon. It was agreed that they would halt and take some refreshment.  While they chewed at their small bit of waybread, Glorfindel looked at Estelwen appreciatively. "That was a good throw, that you made. Better than good. You are remarkably skilled, meldis. I think I shall have to take you into my service as well. It is unfair that Master Erestor hogs all of your talents."

At the mention of Erestor's name, Estelwen's eyes cast downward. After Rúmil, she wondered if she could feel safe with any but the two already with her, ever again. Haldir saw the look in her eyes, and knew what had caused it.

"Estelwen, you were very brave today. Braver than I have been these past weeks. I owe you, both of you an apology, for being a coward."

"Why would you ever say that about yourself, Haldir?"

"Because I am still so distraught about my brother and what he did that I can barely think about anything else. My own flesh and blood has hurt someone I love very much. The Lady spoke to me, before we left. She gave me a letter. It is from Rúmil, to you, Estelwen. It is unsealed, for she meant that Glorfindel and I would read it first. Every day I have tried to speak of it and every day I have failed because I am afraid to look. Please forgive me."

Estelwen walked to the Marchwarden and sat in his lap, hugging his broad chest. "You are not the only one, Haldir. While I did not know of the letter, I do not know how to move past what happened. I feel as though no one in this world will ever feel safe again, after what he did. Because I have been forced to realize that many are cruel, and that I have no way to know this until it is too late. You have both had many loves and it seems as though it has been fine for you. But you are both beautiful males. You do not have anything wrong with you, and apparently I do. I feel so stupid...I never should have agreed to go with him." 

The golden head came up in veiled ire. "Estelwen, you cannot abandon hope like this or everything Haldir and I have tried to give you will have been in vain. You are blaming yourself for being the victim of someone who chose to commit detestable actions and show complete disrespect and disregard for another elf."

Her head drooped. "I hear your words, Glorfindel, and I know you are right, but how do I make myself feel different? I told you once, I am not strong like you. I am afraid, meldir, and I do not know how to be un-afraid. Do you know what to do? Because I do not."

Glorfindel tilted his beautiful head up with an air of some challenge until he saw the tears pooling in her eyes. "Yes, I do. You must learn to trust again. And you must learn how to choose who to trust, as well. How long had you known me, before you agreed to share your body with me?"

"You know the answer as well as I, my Lord. Ten years. But I knew Haldir for perhaps three hours! What is your point?"

"My point is that you knew Haldir for a few hours but I knew him for a few centuries. He was highly recommended, shall we say? But what did you know of Rúmil?"

The lesson was painful, and now rather obvious. "Nothing. I assumed. Wrongly."

"Yes. And I still cannot emphasize enough that the blame still does not lie with you. I know you are inexperienced, meldis. One way you can protect yourself is to take more time to find out about another...before taking that step."

"I did not know, somehow, even though I already did know that not...oh, Varda, why does this have to be so hard?"

Haldir wrapped his arms around her. "I am so, so sorry, Estelwen. I feel such guilt."

She snorted. "Why, for being the morally upright and kind brother of someone who is not? Haldir, I do not have siblings, so I cannot truly understand. What your poor mother and father are enduring right now, I cannot imagine."

"They are not enduring anything. Our mother and father are with Námo. I am Rúmil's mother and father. I raised him since he was seven years of age. And as you so astutely observe, there are not words for what I am enduring."

Estelwen froze. "Valar, forgive me Haldir, please. I did not know. I am so sorry for my words..."

"Haldir, give me the letter," snapped Glorfindel. "You may not be able to read it, but I feel no such reluctance. We must find a way to help each other heal from what has happened, and I for one would know what he said."

With great reluctance, Haldir slipped off his knapsack and procured the item, handing it to Glorfindel who now spoke. "Estelwen? This is addressed to you. Do you wish to view it with me?"

Her head shook 'No'. "I would rather be told first in great generalities what it says. I trust you, Glorfindel. What I do not want is to be further abused. You read it, and tell me what you believe is fitting, if Haldir is willing to be present for that." Turning away, she hugged Haldir tightly, deeply wondering if she really wished to know any of it while at the same time feeling deeply sorry for her earlier words. Playfully, her small fingers poked gently at the corners of the Marchwarden's lips, trying to push them into a smile. Mischievous and beautiful eyes sparkled up at his. These simple antics soon drew a real smile, and Estelwen's pretty teeth showed now as a small sign of happiness from him gave some joy back to her. "I truly am sorry," she said, placing a kiss on his chin. 

"May I kiss you properly?" Haldir asked.

Estelwen nodded, and received a restrained kiss that was yet full of feeling. "I love you, meldir."

Their affirmations were interrupted by an exclamation: "Varda!" said Glorfindel, in disbelief at what he had just read.

"And?" two voices asked in unison.

"If I were to try to summarize, he takes full responsibility for his actions and apologizes. He shows some understanding of how he hurt you emotionally and accepts that he caused you to fall and become injured. He makes some attempt to explain how he sank so low, but does not offer it as an excuse. And there is one last part, I feel I must read. ' _I would understand if you never wish to lay eyes on me again; I have behaved no better than an orc. I make a solemn promise that I will not resist the years or deeds deemed necessary for my repentance. If a day ever comes that you would allow me to beg your forgiveness, it would exceed my hopes. I have turned away from drink, and resolved never to treat another with the disrespect I showed you. You are beautiful inside and out, Estelwen. That I saw this and acted as I did only enhanced my crimes. A day will not pass when I will not feel regret, but that does not help you. My Lady tells me there is always hope. If I have one hope for you, it is that my wrongs against you will not close your heart to others who are truly deserving of your grace and kindness. Rúmil_."

Haldir smiled weakly. "Maybe there truly is hope. I will pray that this change of attitude is not temporary. I would give anything, for my brother to have this poison taken from him. There was a time when he was the sweetest elfling..."

Estelwen walked to Glorfindel, taking his hand and kissing it with reverence. "Thank you for showing courage when I could not."

For an answer, Glorfindel brushed his lips briefly against hers, asking a different question. She claimed his mouth in a sweet and tender kiss that promised more. "I love you both. I miss you both. It is time I seek fuller healing. Tonight, I would be honored to share myself with you, if you would be willing." Haldir rose, and the three of them embraced. In silence, they replaced their knapsacks and continued on.

By the arrival of dusk the mountains had been left two leagues' distant, and a secluded and well-hidden cleft made for a place deemed safe enough for a small campfire. Soon a merry blaze was crackling, and Haldir made tea for them; a welcome treat. Warm and comfortable, and told that she could consume extra waybread on account of their unexpectedly rapid passage, it felt like the leisure time after a feast. Which is why she began removing her clothing and placing the neatly folded articles in a stack, until she was fully nude. Her attractive bosom stood out proudly before her flat belly, and the fall of her dark hair swayed to her waist. Both ellyn watched her, entranced, as she laid down on her blanket in invitation, beckoning them. Haldir began to undress as well, while Glorfindel stood up to take one last careful moment to listen and search the moonlit landscape. Satisfied that they were relatively safe, he disrobed as well.  Estelwen sat up and spoke to both of them. "Glorfindel, for your unwavering care of me, for your friendship and your love; Haldir, for your generosity of spirit, your friendship and your love; any comfort of my body that I can give you, I give willingly. Haldir has...educated me, in your absence, Glorfindel. Anything you might enjoy, including taking me as you would an ellon; if that is your desire I consent to it."

The seneschal did not expect this, and smiled. For a moment he thought to forego her offer, because he was not small. Until it occurred to him that Haldir was actually of greater girth, and that if Estelwen had taken his friend, he would pose no great obstacle. They took their time. Having no such luxuries as oil, they had to wait upon what their bodies would provide, with patience. Estelwen busied her small but limber tongue attending to Haldir, while Glorfindel looked on and slowly prepared her to receive him. He had never tried this with a female, and it fascinated him that even though she lacked that special place inside that gave an ellon such great enjoyment, she certainly responded as though she gained pleasure of her own. While she kissed Haldir with abandon and placed her teasing lips at the base of his throat and caressed lightly at his nipples, Glorfindel slowly and carefully entered her. And during the time he held still to allow her to adjust to him, Haldir moved underneath her to enter her womanhood. "I can feel you, Glorfindel," the Marchwarden murmured.

"And I you," came the reply, even as he reeled at the sensation of feeling Haldir's length through Estelwen's heated inner walls. Both males began to slowly move, and the diminutive elleth gasped at this unimagined sensation. To have both of them inside of her...no words could suffice. Their thrusting, the teasing brushes of Glorfindel's sack against her body...all the pain and discomfort and fear of the last many weeks balled up somewhere inside of her, and when they brought her to climax she stifled a cry, for all of it was set free. In trust, in love, and in safety and bliss she writhed and spasmed above and below them. As she subsided, she relished the exquisite sensitivity of her body, and squeezed down in every manner possible to give them more enjoyment. Though, Estelwen tried to remind herself, she needed to be able to walk in the morning. They found a rhythm that became frenzied, toward the end, as Glorfindel exploded, filling her, followed almost immediately by Haldir. Spent, and happy, the two ellyn carefully cleaned her while continuing their caresses, rubbing at muscles they knew to be sore. They ensured their meldis dressed completely before doing the same. Near the last of the dying embers, three elves rested in the greatest peace of mind they had known in weeks.


	12. Twelve

{Three weeks later}

"Here is a stream, and that cast is coming off. I insist," demanded Glorfindel. "It has already been on weeks too long." Estelwen knew she could no longer win this argument, and sat down on a rock to offer her arm to the seneschal while Haldir grinned in amusement. They were only three days from home, and Glorfindel seemed determined that Lord Elrond would not remove a stinking mess from an arm long overdue to have this done. "This is not going to look nice, when you see your arm. Do not be alarmed, it will improve quickly with air and sunshine. The breaks had been above and below her elbow, and all this time she had kept her arm in a sling. It was not the one needed for writing, therefore, she did not see the need to fret about it.  Haldir and Glorfindel diligently worried a line into the plaster with their knives, until a flat rock was added to the equation, to tap with more force and shatter the plaster. 

Estelwen watched the proceeding with mild alarm, reasoning that at the worst, she could manage three days with a stab wound. In the end she found it easier to turn her head and not watch. Eventually with one last crackling sound, the cast was able to be removed. 

"Your elbow will be painfully stiff and your arm weak, meldis. I am going to do my best to wash it for you without hurting you." He aided her to keep her arm in the water for a few minutes, holding her carefully so that she could not accidentally extend it hurriedly. There were rushes and cattails, and Haldir brought a few of these over. Estelwen looked on in morbid fascination as what could only be described as thin sheets of disgustingly greyish dead skin sloughed off under his ministrations. 

"Ewww," she said, vaguely repulsed.

"You are a scribe, and that is the best word you can choose?" he teased. "Ew?"

"It is onomatopoeia, my Lord," she huffed. " 'Ewww'  is entirely appropriate."

Glorfindel snorted. "I will run that past your Master, and see if he accepts your reasoning."

At the mention of Erestor, Estelwen grew silent. "Do you think he missed me, even a little bit?" she asked. "I have not asked about him because I think I have been too afraid of the answer."

"Yes, he did," the seneschal said. "And you? Have your feelings changed? Haldir told me that you spoke to him of considering remaining in Lórien, and that you reconsidered after speaking with the Lady. Is that true?"

"Yes," she said softly. "I only considered staying because....I was accepted there with open arms. I made friends, and learned that I could call more than one place home after all. And...I wondered why I should return to a hopeless situation."

"There is always hope, Estelwen. Did I not hear you say that, during our journey?"

"Yes. But only because the Lady said it to me." Her fingers went reflexively to the pendant at her neck.

"What stones are those? That is the gift of Galadriel?"

She nodded. "Beryls."

"Beryls in the form of an iris? Hm," he smirked.

"You....know?"

"Contrary to popular belief I do not *only* practice at swords, meldis."

"You are maddening, my Lord. Has Master Erestor been...well?"

"In my estimation, yes."

"Then my heart is glad to hear it," she said. No further words were spoken.

*****

Three days later the sight that she had left behind filled her eyes...Imladris. It was a sunny day, and as the colors played on the sprays from the waterfalls, her eyes filled with moisture. Glorfindel led the way, and Estelwen leaned on Haldir's arm. Once they were past the mountains, one of the ellyn was always a far more welcome support, and the walking stick had been left behind. She already knew that she was under orders to see Lord Elrond soon after her return, for the ankle still gave some discomfort and the arm was...in need of rehabilitation. To extend it fully was not currently possible and painful, so much of the time she kept it in the sling still; it was simply easier. 

Erestor had become nearly frantic internally, as the weeks had gone by. He knew that they might yet be many more weeks; there was simply no way to know. So when the day came that he caught the sound of  Glorfindel's boots on the flagstones, he all but lurched out of his chair to look out the window. The seneschal had indeed returned, and his assistant walked with the aid of Haldir of Lórien, who carried himself proudly. They stopped in the courtyard, where their ordinary voices carried up easily to his office. "Haldir, you are welcome to use the private bath in my quarters, to refresh yourself. I will see Estelwen to her rooms."

"You have a private bath?" she smirked at him. "Now  *I* want to be seneschal. That is cruelty, my Lord. Like dangling cake in front of a starving person." 

He frowned. "Perhaps I should invite you also; you can hardly walk on your own. Very well, I will go with you to find new clothing. But by the Valar, please tell me you can manage without perfumes."

"For a chance to bathe and not be a public spectacle, I will use sandpaper if that is your wish."

"Fair enough," he chuckled. "You did well, Estelwen. I know this was very difficult, and that you had much discomfort."

"It is kind of you to say so but...I would rather forget all that if I could, just for a time."

"Very well." Glorfindel led her off, grimacing at how much she favored her ankle. A part of him wondered if this had truly been *only* a sprain.

Erestor kept back, out of sight, but the conversation only did a little to decrease his anxiety. _Estelwen had been hurt? What in Eru's name had happened?_ But it would hardly look appropriate to go running down the halls to crash into Glorfindel's quarters. No, he would have to wait, although it was half-killing him. They were back, in one piece (he hoped) and that was what mattered most. Turning sadly to the mounting stack of documents on his desk, he forced himself to return to work.

*****

The following morning Estelwen woke, hardly believing that she was back in her small rooms. Beautiful soft linens, a pretty nightgown, clean undergarments....and stained and worn travel garments that looked like a week of boiling in lye *might* remove some of the soiling. _Even the orc blood is still on the tunic._ She wrinkled her nose in distaste. With the usual stiffness she climbed out of bed. Thanks to the kindness of her friend, she had sparkling clean skin and hair. It had been worth the wait, to patiently allow Haldir his bath, for what followed. No one knew of her whereabouts, and Glorfindel had carefully washed her. Everywhere. Even her hair. In her entire life she had never been fussed over and pampered in such a manner. She would have to work out some manner in which to pay him back, and not simply the sharing of pleasure. He had proven himself to be one of her two true and fast friends in this world, and he deserved some acknowledgement of that. Everything was a little harder with the use of only one hand; some extra effort was needed even to comb out her hair. She would have to wear it long today; braids were out of the question. Donning clean clothes took longer too, but at last she managed it. Before she had collapsed in a heap, all of her manuscripts were secured from the ellyn. Now all of them were placed carefully in her knapsack; at least that way she could safely carry them to the office library. After everything, she was determined to deliver these to her Master's desk before anything, anything at all could happen to them.  Last night, she had not attended dinner, being too tired and in too much discomfort, Besides, the last pieces of waybread were yet in her pouch; after so many meals of it, what was one more? Even now, she munched on a piece, uncaring. It wasn't as if anyone would want the leftovers. 

Her sling from Lórien was too disgusting for words; Estelwen was not about to put it on. If she walked carefully, and held her arm against her chest, all would be well. Shouldering the knapsack, she somewhat mechanically exited her room. _What would it be like, to see him after so long? The same as always_ , she smiled to herself. _You can now resume admiring him from afar, and, you are no longer totally alone here._

When she reached the heavy door, it was difficult to forego the urge to knock, which was ridiculous. This was her place of work. So she lifted the latch and stepped in, closing the door behind her. And just as on the very first day, there he was, the fall of raven hair framing his perfect face.  Stepping to the front of the desk, she noticed that he did not look up from his writing. _Small wonder, it is not as if he notices you, silly creature._ "Good morning, Master Erestor. I have returned with the manuscripts. Please tell me when it pleases you to examine them." With a simple bow, she turned to continue moving toward her desk. When she walked slowly, it hid that she limped. At her desk, she smiled to see that everything was precisely as she had left it. One at a time, she began removing each of her works from their protective covers, and placing them on her desk in a neat stack. That went slower too, because she could really only use her right hand. _Bother it._ Looking down at herself, she grimaced. Perhaps she should have chosen a longer-sleeved tunic; her arm really did look appalling. With a soft sigh, she now frowned at all the wrappers to try to re-fold. "Double bother," she muttered under her breath. The truth was, she'd not had to do anything but eat and drink for weeks, and it had never occurred to her just how much she actually used two arms in her ordinary life. She tried to reach for one of the wrappers with both arms and hissed softly from the sharp pain. 

So preoccupied was she with how badly this exceedingly simple task was proceeding that no note was taken of Erestor leaving his desk and coming to stand at her side. Swiftly but with great gentleness, his hand stopped the movement of her damaged arm. "Your arm was broken, Estelwen?" 

He had never touched her before. Never _hinted_ at touching her before, which was why words failed her. Her mouth opened in deep surprise until at some point it penetrated that he had asked a question."Yes, Master."

"How long ago?"

"The last day of Echuir, my Lord."

"And when did the cast come off?"

Estelwen flushed pink. "Three days ago, my Lord."

Erestor added up the appalling length of time the cast had been on. "You can barely use your arm, and it hurts." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes. I was already ordered to see Lord Elrond."

The chocolate brown eyes held hers in a way they had not ever done before,  causing her heart to thunder in her chest. Abruptly he released her. "Was that your only injury?"

"No. They said I sprained my ankle badly. It is...there is still some difficulty.  And I hit my head."

"May I ask how all of this happened?" His expression was kind.

"I was out of my tree. I mean, I fell out of a...." Now she was blushing furiously. "Allow me to try again. I was climbing up to my talan and I lost consciousness. I fell."

His sharp mind missed nothing. Elves did not 'lose consciousness'. There was more here, but he recognized her increasing discomfort. "Come with me, please."

"You do not wish to see the manuscripts, Master?" she said in disbelief.

"I wish to see you well. You are far more important than they are. Now will you walk with me, or must I carry you?" He offered his arm. Immediately Estelwen took hold of it, because the thought of being seen riding on Erestor's shoulders was not to be endured. He carefully allowed her to set the pace as he smiled down on her. The sight of the delicate, diminutive hand filled him with happiness. And then he saw her pendant. At first his stomach somersaulted. _Was this the gift of a lover,  or an admirer?_ "I did not wish you good morning in return", he smiled. "Your necklace is beautiful, Estelwen. Beryls?"

"Yes," the reply came, as her mind was reeling from both the contact and the seeming change in him. "It was a gift of the Lady Galadriel. 'There is always hope,' she told me. It was very kind of her, and deeply appreciated."

"How strange," he returned. "A good friend told me the same thing, not so long ago."

Some outside force had surely taken possession of her head and neck just then, for she stopped and looked up at him. Seeing his gentle smile, that she had so longed to ever have directed at her, brought out a much lovelier one from her pretty face. They continued on toward the Healer's Hall.


	13. Thirteen

"Congratulations," Lord Elrond said with dismay. "You walked from Lothlórien on a leg that was sprained _and_ fractured. You never should have been placing weight on this foot, Estelwen. All it has done is fail to heal. I cannot believe you endured the pain of this, for so long. Did you say nothing, to my seneschal?" His eyebrow arched in unhappiness, at the state of her.

"I did not know, my Lord," Estelwen replied, embarrassed. "And Lord Glorfindel often carried me on his shoulders. He and Haldir did all they could, to help. It was not their fault, that none of us knew." Her words were spoken with respect, but she felt determined to defend her friends.

"I suppose," he sighed, exasperated. "Erestor, perhaps you can oversee your assistant to a better end? I will bind this leg as it should be. The wrappings are to be on during the day, and only the smaller one that will be on your ankle should be left on during sleep. Your foot is not to bear weight or touch the ground under any circumstances. If you are at a desk, it should be elevated. You will be issued a medicine to be taken twice in the day, to reduce inflammation. There will be..." 

Estelwen's lips parted in shock at the barrage of instructions being thrown at her. Finally home, she would be as bad as an invalid for...weeks, yet? And he had hardly begun! After he spoke of her leg, he moved onto her arm, complete with 'cast should have been off at least three weeks sooner' and a battery of exercises that he demonstrated to Erestor. The entire time he listened, a faintly amused smile played over his serene and unreadable face. When Elrond finally departed amidst a monologue concerning 'better medical training', the tiny elleth was speechless and deflated.

"Well, that was productive," Erestor smiled cheerfully. "Unless you object, I will have breakfast sent to the office. The less you have to be moved, the simpler this will be."

Her eyes were half-glazed over with everything she had been told."But how will I...?" The question died on her lips, as she flushed pink with chagrin. This was not how she imagined resuming her working life with her beloved Master. Not at all.

"As you are not permitted to walk, it would seem that I will carry you, unless you would prefer that I retrieve one of your travel companions?"

Estelwen hesitated, taking a deep breath and trying to summon courage. "I would be honored, Master, I only do not want to presume on your time. I..." _say it_ , she ordered herself. _Just SAY IT._ "I missed you, Master." _Valar, the words had actually come out. Why did I say that?_ Panic swept over her as her heart pounded. _Am I out of what is left of my mind?_

Erestor's arms carefully lifted her up, holding her against him. This elleth was so small! Hope blazed in Erestor's heart, at her words. "I missed you too, Estelwen. More than you know. I will care for you. It seems that your time away included rather more than copying texts," he teased gently.

That sobered her. _What would he think of me, if he knew?_ As far as she was aware, Erestor remained aloof, did not have relationships. Would he imagine she threw herself at every ellon who passed her by, were he to find out? _You do not owe him that explanation_ , she reminded herself. _In fact, you do not really know him at all. Existing in the same room for ten years does not mean that you understand him, or have knowledge of what he is really like. Be careful_ , she cautioned herself. _Look what giving your trust blindly earned you last time._ Estelwen did not answer his unspoken question, but instead looked straight ahead as she carefully sought a purchase on his opposite shoulder. Her hand could not help but brush against his hair, which felt like spun silk, as she always guessed it might.

The Counselor noticed for the second time that whatever had transpired in Lórien left her deeply uncomfortable; it did not require genius to work out that it was connected to how she had been injured. That Glorfindel knew, he had no doubt. _Patience_ , he told himself. _Be happy that you were received this well._

The dark elf placed her in a comfortable chair in an antechamber she had never noticed, moving a chair and bringing a cushion to elevate her leg. It was a simple space; there was a table that could seat four and a small sideboard, sparsely but tastefully appointed. For lack of better words, it appeared to be a place to consume food or drink without any risk to the ink and parchment elsewhere in the stacks of volumes and on the work-spaces. In arriving here, she had been carried past Erestor's desk, that held an alarming backlog of unfinished work. That was not like him, at all. Then again, her absence had lasted many months, perhaps the demands on him had increased substantially? Now that she had returned, perhaps he could divert the less important tasks to her. She certainly was not going to be doing much else, until her health was fully restored.

"Please excuse me," he smiled, disappearing briefly and returning. "Drink this."  

It was not possible to avoid grimacing; the smell of the liquid promised nothing good for the taste of it. He laughed. "It is the medicine you must take. Trust me, you will find it better on its own, than ruining the flavor of your food."

Inhaling deeply, she swallowed it down and found her senses assaulted by this...whatever it was. "Is this medicine, or a punishment?" The words were muttered almost inaudibly as she cringed from the taste. "Valar, this is awful." 

He laughed. "It will grow on you. And it will not last forever. The better you follow your instructions to stay off the leg, the less you will need it."

"If I may ask, Master, you seem familiar with this by experience?"

He nodded, smiling. "I have had my share of injuries. I learned the consequences of not following directions, so I am determined to spare you the same outcome."

"I see," she smiled wryly.

"Excuse me again. I will return shortly."

Estelwen pondered whether any of this was really happening, or was about her. _He said he missed me..._

From a slight distance, Glorfindel and Haldir had been making their way to the Dining Hall, when the Marchwarden nudged the seneschal with a smile. "Look," he indicated with a toss of his head. Both witnessed Erestor carrying Estelwen.

"Varda, he is actually taking my advice," Glorfindel whispered. "I would not have thought it possible."

Haldir chuckled. "I learned long ago not to ignore your counsel, old friend. You never stopped trying to help me. While I am not privy to your schemes, in this case, I can guess. I hope our small meldis finds happiness."

"I hope my much taller meldir does as well," Glorfindel said. "Before you go, perhaps you can better make Erestor's acquaintance. His is a beautiful spirit."

"We shall see. I have felt somewhat...withdrawn, on account of Rúmil. Which brings me to another matter. I think I should read all of my brother's letter, even though it may prove difficult. Perhaps Estelwen feels the same. Maybe one of your sought-after dinner invitations would allow us the opportunity to surmount this last hurdle?"

"Let me reflect on this," he nodded in general agreement. "I think we should allow some days for her to see where it all might lead, so to speak. Erestor is no fool; he will have questions. And unless I am mistaken, she will be afraid. She thinks she has no courage, Haldir. That is not true, but at times we all need extra help to move forward."

"Indeed," the pale blond ellon agreed. "Indeed."


	14. Fourteen

{six days later}

The soft scratches of quills were the only sounds to be heard in the Library Office not long after the noon hour. Concentrating on the terms of the contract she was being asked to copy proved more difficult that usual. As much as Estelwen wished to blame the medication she was required to consume, it stood far more to reason that the solicitousness of Erestor during these past days was the true reason. The Counselor had shown every kindness and care, and appeared to be doing so with gladness. But what she could not put certain faith in was...why? He had not made any physical overtures to her, or shown anything but an extreme courtesy and interest. What if she was wrong? What if he had no particular attraction toward her, but was merely trying to be more outgoing and friendly? For so many reasons, she could not afford to be wrong. So she waited, still hoping that she was right. Thoughts such as these were precisely why she had just read the same three lines of text over for the sixth time. Acknowledging the temporary futility of it all, she sat up, lamenting that it was not possible to even walk to the window. Or scratch her own back. With a sigh, her shoulder blade was crammed against her chair back to the extent possible, as she wriggled back and forth, trying to relieve the confounded itch.

"I have never seen a worse case, Haldir, have you?"

"No, I have not. Truly."

Estelwen glared up at her two meldir, feeling more than a little grumpy. "And how are my Lords this fine afternoon?" she said in tones that were far too silky to be believable.

"I believe our meldis is cranky," the Marchwarden opined. 

"I may not be able to walk, but I can still throw," she grumbled softly.

"Now is that anyway to speak to someone who can scratch your back for you?" Glorfindel gloated.

"I suppose not," she said, defeated. "You are both still incorrigible."

Glorfindel reached around to scratch her back and laughed as her expression transfixed to one of bliss. "I retract all my words. Just a little higher," she begged. "But in earnest, I do not think you wish to socialize just now. What may I do for you?"

Erestor surreptitiously watched this display of easy familiarity with envy, while trying to pretend that he was not listening or noticing. He did not look up from his work, as he kept writing.

Haldir spoke. "There is a document yet unread in its entirety. I believe it is time to...care for this. If you agree would you join us for dinner tonight?"

Erestor started to hear these words, because he had already been invited to dine with Glorfindel at sunset, and was now deeply confused. But he was not the one being spoken to, and held his silence.

"Oh. That." A visible frown came over her face. "I suppose you are right. Yes, I will come, if you can recall that I am not allowed to walk on my own."

"It is no problem," Glorfindel smiled. "Erestor has been caring for these matters magnificently, and I am sure he will not mind bringing you. He is to join us. You are still available, Counselor, are you not?"

Erestor looked up briefly, nodding, before returning to his work.

"There, you see? No difficulty at all."

Her eyes grew wide as saucers as she looked back and forth to the two of them. Not being stupid, Estelwen could come to only one possible conclusion: They meant for Erestor to learn of everything.

"Why?" she whispered to Glorfindel, pleading.

He bent down to kiss her forehead, and whisper in her ear. "Give us your trust, meldis. And give it to him as well." Far more audibly, he added, "Until dinner, then." They left, swiftly.

Quickly she turned and bowed her head, giving it a toss that allowed her hair to obscure her face. Tears pooled in her eyes that she furiously tried to blink back. _Why by all the Valar would they do this to her? Had she not been through enough, that they would try to heap more on what existed of her small happiness?_ With all her might she fought to keep her breathing steady and not give way to crying. There was only limited success. _Please, not here. Not now._ Her frame of mind was not entirely able to overrule her emotion, as silent tears flowed down her cheeks. The hand that was uninjured was brought up to swipe at her face as the struggle continued, and then she heard him.

"Estelwen?" Erestor asked, kneeling down next to her chair, no longer in doubt about her distress. "Why are you crying? Will you tell me?"

There was only one truly honest answer. "I am afraid," she whispered. Her mind was a hopeless jumble of all the reasons for that fear. Fear of loss, fear of rejection, fear of a future in which he would wish to have nothing to do with her. 

"I think we both know that that is not a complete answer, and yet I am not being fair to you. I keep hoping that you will open yourself to me, but I have not given you a single real reason to do so. I am afraid too, Estelwen. Someone has to speak first, and I am not the one who is confined to a chair. I told you that I missed you, and that was a partial truth. It would have been more accurate to say that I have been miserable without you. I am not very good at speaking about things like this, but I will try. Your beauty and intelligence are most of what I think about. All day, every day. To have a reason to spend so much time with you has made this past week one of the best of my life. I was hurt once, very badly, and I am afraid that you will hurt me too. That is why I have been closed off, for so long." He looked away from her, his brown eyes filled with anxiety. "Maybe you will, but maybe you will not. There is always hope. Or so I am told," he said, struggling at times to believe it himself.

In utter disbelief at what she was hearing, Estelwen stared back. The moment felt raw, fragile. But that he said what he did..."Since the first moment I saw you, Master, I have thought of little else but...you. I was sure you would never have any interest in me, beyond our profession. When you sent me away I felt devastated, but was helped to see things differently by one who knows you better than I." Her eyes lowered. "I too was hurt. Long ago, and somewhat more recently as well." There was a pause. "I was hurt because I trusted too easily. And yet the only two I have learned to fully trust in all this world have told me that it is safe to trust you as well." More tears streamed from her eyes, that his delicate fingers wiped away.

Erestor looked down, his impossibly long, dark lashes framing his eyes. "I feel hopeful, Estelwen. I will confess as well that I owe having come this far to Glorfindel, who has proven to be the truest friend I could ever have."

"I think we all say that," she smiled. The realization was coming over both of them that Glorfindel being Glorfindel, they likely both knew him in the fullest sense of the word. Estelwen carefully reached up, placing her hand against the face she had dreamed of touching since the first day she arrived here.

"I would like so much to kiss you," Erestor said still hardly believing that he was speaking these things aloud to another. An elleth. And fear washed over him again as he backed away.

"Master?"

"Whatever else happens, call me Erestor. Save the titles for meetings and formality. Please."

"There is more, you are afraid of?"

He nodded.

"As am I," she said. "You took the courage to begin, and I will now try to continue. We are both grown, so I will speak plainly. Tonight you will learn about what happened to me in my last days in the Golden Wood. All of it. I am still struggling, with the pain of it. Erestor, I am not built...normally. You see how small I am in body. But the part of me associated with intimate enjoyments is not small at all. I have been called every sort of name, mocked in every sort of way, for something I cannot help. Until Glorfindel and Haldir, I believed I had no worth. They taught me otherwise. I was afraid that once you learned this about me, you would turn away. But maybe what I need to realize is that I cannot control what you would do either way. My meldir have shown me love, and allowed me to not feel ashamed of my body. It is better that you know now; if this will disappoint you, better it happen now than later, for that would break my heart."

Tears flowed freely now, from the stress of speaking. Her hand unconsciously found her pendant and clutched it. What Estelwen did not see, because she did not look, was the play of emotion across Erestor's face. "Valar..." he breathed, as he reached to kiss her carefully and take her in his arms. "Estelwen, many months ago I summoned the courage to ask Glorfindel what you were like. When he answered, he told me that you were exactly like me. I too am not....I am too large, Estelwen. What few partners I have risked take one glance at me and dismiss me. It is why I have kept myself aloof. I know the same pain of rejection that you fear. It has defined my life."

"But you are perfect, and beautiful," she said, not comprehending the words in her ears. "There could never be anything wrong with you." Leaning forward, she again kissed the pink lips so long yearned for, still trying to process what he had told her.

With a groan of desire, he held her close. "I will not fail to control my emotions so much every day, but this is hopeless. I cannot copy documents when everything I have ever wanted is in my arms. Would you allow me to take you somewhere else?"

"Yes," she breathed, her strange eyes darkening with desire. Erestor's quarters were not far away, and that hallway could be counted on to be deserted this time of the day. Swift as a shadow, Erestor vanished with her through the doorway to his rooms. "I will share myself with you gladly, Erestor. I never believed...this feels like a dream." Estelwen did the best she could, to undress herself, laughing softly at her...current limitations. When her love's clothing fell away to reveal his form, for the first time in his life he saw no hesitation or revulsion, but eyes that flared with longing as her small hand reached out to him. "Can this be possible?" she breathed, almost crying. "Someone truly for me?"

He lay down next to her on his bed, after carefully positioning her injured leg. Her body was exquisite. Perfect skin, full, shapely breasts, tempting curves, everything about her petite and delicate. "You are certain you...want this?" he asked, careful to ensure her consent. "I do not wish you to feel pressured."

"If you do not hurry, I may become a terrible assistant and suddenly forget what ink is," she teased. "I have dreamed of nothing but this since the first day I met you, Erestor." He covered her body with his, pausing to kiss her luxuriously. The touch of her small hands set him aflame, especially when they reached down to caress his bulging manhood. Her mouth found what sensitive places it could reach, until she pleaded with him. "Please..."

Eager hips tilted up to meet him, as he began to carefully push into her folds. The desire he felt from Estelwen could not erase so many years of fear. He need not have worried. Her good arm forcefully drew him in until he filled her, trembling with joy and delight. Already she was pushing herself down onto him, stifling the noises she suddenly found herself wishing to make in her happiness. He fit like a hand in a glove, and her heart was surely going to burst with gratitude. The fall of his raven hair brushed her belly with each thrust like she had always imagined. When her shuddering climax came, the name escaped her lips that she had so long wished to utter aloud: "Erestor!" This joy had to compete with the incomparable sensation of his silky seed pumping into her yearning body.

Erestor held himself up on his elbows, terrified of hurting one of her injuries even as the greatest happiness of his life overcame him. "Dear Estelwen," he smiled radiantly."What a gift you have given me! I will cherish you, melethril, if you will allow it." Dark eyes shone with a light of gladness unlooked for.

"I will allow it," she answered, hugging him close as she tried to sit up and could not. Chuckling, he helped her. "But..." There was hesitation. "I am inexperienced, in matters of the heart, Erestor. I am not entirely certain what I am asking. I love both Glorfindel and Haldir. But not like I believe I am going to love you, in time. I can promise you that while I am yours, my heart will be closed to others beside. I need to know now, if you will wish me to remain apart from...them. I will not try to deceive you; I call both of them melethron as well."

Erestor smiled at her courage and her gentle honesty. "I too am here because of the love of Glorfindel; I have also taken comfort in his arms. I cannot regret it.  I will not look elsewhere, either. Perhaps it is better, to see where our hearts lead us, in this? It would not be right of me to try to bar you from the one to whom I owe my present happiness. I believe he has guided us for a long time now, to reach this day. Were it not for him, I would still be convinced that I am unlovable."

"Now to manage one more thing," she muttered, thinking of this evening. "Will you allow us to tell you our story tonight, Erestor? I will tell you what I have told my meldir; I am not strong. If you insist on knowing now, I will find a way to tell you, but I would be grateful to only have to discuss this once."

"You do not owe me explanations. I only wish to love you, to help you. I will wait until later. But if I might ask one thing....'our' story?"

Estelwen nodded, her heart growing heavy, as she laid her hand on his for strength. "I was not the only one who suffered what happened." Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. "The very short version is, the night before Glorfindel arrived in Lórien, Haldir's brother Rúmil invited me for a walk, a picnic with wine and some food. Because of Haldir I thought it was safe to accept his invitation. Rúmil gave me wine laced with sleeping medicine, and I became drunk. He...took me, although I did not refuse his advances. It all happened so fast. He was not pleased with my body and...treated me badly. When he was done he abandoned me in the woods, drugged. I dressed and made my way back to my talan, somehow. But when I climbed the ladder I blacked out and fell a long way down. Glorfindel found me, broken at the base of the tree. Rúmil was arrested and brought before the Lord and Lady, and Haldir  ordered to accompany us as escort rather than remain at home. There is more and it is still difficult to discuss, but not only for me. Haldir blames himself and carries a heavy burden. Before he left, the Lady gave Haldir  a letter Rúmil wrote to me. Only Glorfindel has read all of it, because Haldir and I have not had the courage to hear it other than in paraphrases. Tonight, Haldir wishes to read the entire letter. I can say no more, just now."

"This is what you feared I would learn, and reject you over?"

He felt her head nod against his chest. "Among other things. I thought you would believe that I welcomed every ellon that crossed my path. I am sorry, Erestor. I did not know I could trust you. Please forgive me."

"Valar, Estelwen, there is nothing to forgive. I am the one who is sorry...I could not in all my imagination believe this of another elf. I will never send you anywhere again, unless it is by your desire and agreement. I promise."

"That may not be such a good promise to make. I will never willingly leave you."

"You say that now," he teased, "only because I have not yet asked you to copy archives. Give it time."

A gentle elbow to his ribs followed. "Doubtless, you are older, and wiser," she deadpanned.

"Come," he chuckled. "Perhaps, now, you would consent to show me your work with Master Salfir?"

"Attired like this?"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. 

"You *did* say 'now,' Master. I was merely being compliant."

"Eru, help me," he laughed.

Estelwen nodded happily.


	15. Fifteen

{Aduial (dusk), same day}

Erestor carried his new love to her rooms, to change into nicer garments for the dinner, while bringing also clean clothes for tomorrow. For to her great happiness, he had already invited her to stay in his quarters. "I feel like a sack of wheat," Estelwen fretted. "Are you not tired of toting me everywhere?"

"I am relishing every minute of having an excuse to hold you against me, would be far more accurate. I credited you with better observational skills than that," he smirked.

"I was attempting some form of self-deprecating politeness, Counselor," she replied archly. 

"You fare better with outright sarcasm. Dry, dry sarcasm. That is your true strength, meldis."

"Then I stand corrected, O Wise One." Her eyes rolled at his observations. This gentle teasing was a new side to him, and one that she adored. Though, she would not tell him that, of course. What fun would that be?

Erestor left her in charge of knocking softly on Glorfindel's door, remembering for some odd reason the first time she tried to summon the courage to do the same at the Library Office. _How much everything was changing_ , she thought with a brilliant smile. Her lover could not resist the happiness on her face, and nuzzled her cheek. "Gin melin (I love you)", he whispered as she flushed with delight.

Haldir pulled the door open,  taking in their faces in one glance and smiling with joy. "Oh meldir," he called musically to Glorfindel. "Step away from your lighting of candles and greet your guests."

"No, no," the golden elf called back from the other room. "They are guests the first meal. After that they are family."

"But you have never invited me here for a meal," Estelwen protested. "You have only ever taken me on picnics in the valley. That means I am still a guest."

"Valar, these scribes!" he exclaimed in mock annoyance. "They search out every thread of detail, so that they might place you in bonds!"

"I cannot walk but I can still throw," she grumbled once again.

"What does that mean?" Erestor asked. "That is the second time today I have heard you say that."

Haldir sniggered. "It means, Eru help whatever she aims her knife at, Erestor."

"True," said the seneschal, breezing into the room now that his candles were all lit. "In all this time, I never actually praised you for taking down that first orc. Or choosing to fell the archer. I mean it, meldis. You would make a fabulous addition to any patrol."

"Fabulous," she agreed drily. "There is only one problem. Two problems, actually. The orcs terrify me. And once I have thrown my knife, I am useless." 

"Then you should have more than one knife, no?" Erestor teased, kissing her on the cheek.

"Is he always like this?" Estelwen asked Glorfindel, genuinely curious, as she tapped him on the side of the head with an unusually bright gleam of joy in her eyes.

Immediately noting the dramatic shift in the pair, his eyes lit up as he came to them. "You have...?" He almost felt afraid to ask, though he embraced them just the same.

"You were right, Glorfindel," Erestor said. "We both thank you for having been able to...come together." His dark eyes were shining with a happiness the seneschal had never seen, even as Estelwen reached for Glorfindel with her arms and was wrapped into a bear hug while her cheeks were covered in kisses.

"Don't break me!" she teased. "I'm still not back together from the first mess." 

"Don't we know it," said Haldir. "Ai, the lecture we had to listen to from Lord Elrond. You would think we made you pull a dray up the Redhorn Pass, to listen to him."

"I'll have you know that I tried to defend you as respectfully as possible, given that I am a lowly peon."

"Lowly peon?" said Erestor, flummoxed. "Lowly peon? Do you truly have no idea what it means, to be my assistant?"

Glorfindel gave her an arched eyebrow that said all too loudly, '*Now* you've stuck your foot in it.'

"I have a feeling I am about to find out, Master. In seriousness, I meant no offense. But no, I...do not know. I have only ever tried to reflect well on you."

Erestor paused in the brewing of his tirade. "Then we will save this for another time," he said softly. "I know that you have things to discuss this evening that will be difficult enough. I will not add to it."

Haldir gave a low whistle. "You were not jesting, meldir. They really do love each other."

"Told you," smirked Glorfindel, enjoying the furious blushes spreading over the cheeks of his friends. "Enough of our banter. Let us eat, before our food grows cold."

"But you have candle warmers, Glorfindel. The food cannot grow cold," quipped Erestor, grinning. He of all people knew of these wondrous devices, after their first meal together could not go wrong in spite of his inadvertent attempts to derail it.

"Eru!" Glorfindel muttered as he placed Estelwen carefully in a chair, asking Erestor to sit to her left. "You will confirm for Lord Elrond that we kept her leg elevated at this meal, because you will hold it in your lap. While I serve you your cold food," he quipped, not to be outdone. 

To the surprise of everyone, Erestor quickly caught Glorfindel's face, and kissed him full on the lips. "I still love you," the Counselor grinned.

Glorfindel looked at him, stunned, as a mischievous smile suffused his face. "You are full of surprises, my elegant friend."

With a light bow of his head to his host, he attempted to contain his glee while he reached to hold Estelwen's hand. 

How she relished seeing him like this, so happy! Though, there was poignance, too. However long she herself had spent walled off  in a locked room of her own creation, likely he had endured this unhappiness for far longer. _I will do my best to love you, and bring joy to your heart, beautiful Master._ Before she could become yet more emotionally inclined, she blinked and turned away to speak to Haldir.

When their delightful meal had been concluded, Glorfindel offered wine. Estelwen shook her head 'No.' 

"Meldis?" asked the seneschal. "I thought you liked this? You have always enjoyed it before."

Her eyes lowered. "I have not had any wine since...then."  

He knelt down next to her, caressing her cheek. "It was not the fault of the wine," he said softly. "Or your choice to accept it. Do not let your joys be robbed, Estelwen. I will pour you a little. You need not drink it, but try to consider what I have said."

"I will try," she said. "It is still hard, sometimes, Glorfindel."

"I know. Do not think I have not recognized how far you have come, or what it must have taken for you to speak to Erestor." He looked away. "I want everything to be as it was before this happened. For all of us, though I of course do not mean to include your newly declared love in this. Perhaps I am being foolish. It is the warrior in me. We do not like to give up. Do we, Haldir?"

The Marchwarden's face had become written over with unhappiness. "No, we do not. I am sorry, my friend. I want to believe you, but it seems very hard. Some times seem more difficult than others. But you are correct; if we do not have faith to try, then the outcome is certain."

"Do you still wish to do this, Haldir? No oath binds you, to hear the letter. I will not think less of you, if it is better to wait."

Erestor spoke. "Estelwen told me a very brief outline of what happened to her. I do not wish to cause any of you further pain, but I would very much like to understand fully, if you are willing." His eyes rested on Glorfindel.

"Meldis? Do I have your consent to speak of anything, and everything? And Haldir? You also must agree."

"You have it," the diminutive elleth replied, picking up the wine glass and staring at it as though it might sprout fangs. _He is right. Just a tiny sip. You can do that much, Estelwen. There have been many greater difficulties than this._

"I agree. Erestor is known for his wisdom," Haldir said humbly. "I would welcome it. And Erestor, you and I have not befriended each other as I hope will happen in time. But if you are held this highly in esteem by those closest to my heart, know that I welcome you with open arms. Few ellon can hope to compare with you, and I am honored to see you in our midst." The open sincerity in Haldir's eyes caught Erestor unprepared, but not so badly that he failed to bow his head deeply in thanks for what was spoken.

Estelwen tossed all of the wine back in a single swallow. Which was not saying much, as he had only poured her a little. What mattered was, she had done it. "Could we please sit, or could I please sit, on the couch? Body parts are going numb that I would rather did not."

Erestor carefully stood up, supporting her leg, and lifted her even as he had an idea. He seated himself, holding her across his lap. "May I?" he asked with pleading in his expressive upturned eyes.

"I like this," she nodded, snuggling against him as her diminutive fingers wove into his glossy hair. Haldir seated himself next to the pair and carefully took her feet into his lap, removing her slippers to rub at her toes. Glorfindel procured the letter, and sat in the wingback chair across facing them. 

"For you to understand absolutely everything, Erestor, I must begin  with how Estelwen and I became close. I will ask Haldir and Estelwen to add as they feel the need, since I can only tell my own part of this story. We were chaste friends for all the years of her dwelling here. This was when I came to appreciate her wit, her kindness and diligence, but I knew also that she guarded a part of herself from everyone. That changed, weeks into our journey to Lórien, when she responded to my attempts to understand the burden on her heart by allowing me the experience of her body..." 

No detail was spared, and as the dark elf listened, the years of his life with Estelwen came into focus through a lens of different understanding. The effort she made to open herself to him today was of very recent origin; his melethril had not had really much more time than he, in being taught a different view of self-worth. Estelwen herself continued the tale of her months in Lórien. The determination to do her absolute best for Erestor, while making new friends and gaining both a fine reputation and a sense of home with her love of the Golden Wood. There had been no other to visit her bed aside from Haldir, who came to be for her much as Glorfindel. Gentle, considerate, and a pure heart in which her resolve to not shut herself off from life was allowed to grow stronger roots. Estelwen confessed too that she had weighed not returning, believing her love for Erestor to be hopeless, and the Lady's gift and counsel. Her happiness the day her task was completed, followed by the encounter with Rúmil and its aftermath. The injury, the investigation conducted by the ellyn, and the interrogation before the Lord and Lady. Haldir revealed his final discussion with Galadriel. Lastly, their emotionally fragmented journey home under the duress of Estelwen's unhealed injuries, and their attempts to lift each other's spirits from the hurts that had been dealt.

"And now, once again, the letter, in its entirety." Glorfindel sighed deeply, before beginning. Erestor tightened his hold on his love, hoping it offered some reassurance.

 _Estelwen._ _Long has my quill hovered over this page, wanting to say so much and not comprehending how you would find any of it believable. I assaulted you, Estelwen. There is no other word for it. I used what I had discovered of your relationship with my brother to work my way to you as a snake moves through the grass, determined  to have you for bodily pleasures. And even that was only on account of knowing that you had accepted Haldir when you kept all others at a distance, leading all to believe you would have no one. I gave us both wine laced with strong medicine that takes away inhibition, though I was already well under the influence that night. For you see, I drink too much, and have for a long while though I hide it well. I could fill this page with words telling you how sorry I am, and they and a book full of such sentiments would not be enough. There is no excuse for any of my actions. I do not know if you can believe me, that I did not mean to force myself on you. I see these words I write, and cannot comprehend how I thought bringing you to a state in which you would not tell me No is any different from that most abominable act short of murder, but at the time, I did. Is there a difference between Disregard and Evil? I believed there was, and see my error far too late. I cannot easily imagine the damage I have done to you. That I caused your fall and your injuries is obvious; they are my responsibility as well. I do not know you, but I must believe too that I have hurt you emotionally. My words were angry and cruel, my treatment of you appalling. I would like to blame the drink, but what is to blame is what has become of my heart. I ask myself, what happened? When Adar and Naneth died, I was so young. Haldir and Orophin tried so hard to love and teach me, yet all I remember is being angry. Feeling that my life was not fair, always that nothing was fair. What I would give, to not have cast a stain on the good name of my brothers, but it is too late for that. What does it matter, what went wrong within me, and why would I expect you to care? There was and is no excuse for what I have done._ _I would understand if you never wish to lay eyes on me again; I have behaved no better than an orc. I make a solemn promise that I will not resist the years or deeds deemed necessary for my repentance. If a day ever comes that you would allow me to beg your forgiveness, it would exceed my hopes. I have turned away from drink, and resolved never to treat another with the disrespect I showed you. You are beautiful inside and out, Estelwen. That I saw this and acted as I did only enhanced my crimes. A day will not pass when I will not feel regret, but that does not help you. My Lady tells me there is always hope. If I have one hope for you, it is that my wrongs against you will not close your heart to others who are truly deserving of your grace and kindness. Rúmil."_

Glorfindel folded the letter again, placing it on a small table, before moving to sit next to Haldir and take him into his arms. Estelwen felt her eyes burning. Her gentle nature and desire to be generous to others was at all-out war with the wrong that had been done to her. To her meldir, and the Lord and Lady. Leaning forward, she saw Haldir's stricken face, and with determination began to edge toward him, moving like a fabric-covered inchworm. Haldir was on the verge of tears and yet the more he watched this absurd display the less he could keep his face from turning to a smile.

"Are you going to help me or not, Marchwarden? I am trying to hug you and I cannot get there," she groused, frustrated. Glorfindel began giggling, which was a sound that was frankly alarming. Haldir reached for her, unable to ignore her irrepressible spirit. "How you lighten my heart, meldis!" he said, as smiles and tears both fought for supremacy. Erestor felt moved to pity, and edged over to embrace Haldir as well. He too had a younger brother, and could imagine the torn heart such an occurrence would leave in its wake. The sum of their tale was indeed tragic, and the four of them sat for a long time, huddled together in a tangle of arms.

Finally Estelwen spoke. "I will answer Rúmil's letter. Though, I hope you are not going back tomorrow, Haldir. I need some days to...think."

"You will?" all three ellyn asked in stereo, staring at her. 

She sighed. "What he did was awful. Nothing is ever going to change that. But he wrote that letter, and even if he was instructed to write it in the first place, it is something he spent much time considering. If I do not forgive him, what am I accomplishing? Holding in the same kind of anger that caused him to become this way in the first place? If he is ever going to heal, if he is ever to have the chance to become more than he is now, must he not have something for which to hope? If it is not the right thing to do, then why do we have a Vala who brings grief and mercy as one of the powers of this world? If there are mistakes that can never be repaired, what is the point of any of it? And whether or not I would do this for the sake of Rúmil, I would unhesitatingly do it for the sake of Haldir. My pride is not more important than the heart of one that I love. Am I wrong?" Estelwen had sat up now on Haldir's lap, looking to all of them, asking for wisdom.

Erestor was first to speak. "You are not wrong. Perhaps I only begin to see the depths of your heart, Estelwen. I am humbled, by the  generosity of your spirit."

"What he said," echoed Glorfindel. "With all respect, Haldir, I still would not trust myself around him, for what he did to our meldis."

"You are not the one that probably cost him a fractured jaw," Haldir said, staring at the diminutive elleth perched on him. "I will not try to commandeer your quill, Estelwen," he said. "But...do not make it too easy on him. I know Rúmil. His lack of empathy did not begin or end with you. While I pray every day for the rehabilitation of my brother, in my heart I know that the change must be permanent, or better that he is banished and be done with it."

Estelwen looked down and nodded. "This day has been filled with many strong and difficult feelings for me. I wonder how ill you would think of me, if I asked to retire now?"

"Not ill at all," said Haldir. "For I feel much the same."

Glorfindel grinned. "I will keep Haldir company," he said, planting a kiss on his friend's cheek. "Take care of our meldis, Erestor. We will dine again very soon, when nothing remains to weigh down our hearts. I believe this discussion needed to happen, for all our sakes."

Erestor leaned to kiss Haldir chastely on the lips, and Glorfindel with only  slightly more playfulness. Estelwen gave her kisses as well, and wished them a good rest. To her credit, she kept most of the teasing out of her tone. Mostly. _They would rest, all right...eventually._

"You are still willing to stay with me, Estelwen?" Erestor asked softly.

"Tonight and for as long as you will have me, my Lord."

Gentle tugs and fingers that were nimbler than her own helped with the undressing, and the wrap on her leg was removed.  The linens on his bed were warm and soft, and the pillows luxurious. "How fortunate I am," she whispered, forgetting his sharp hearing. 

"Because of me, or the bed?" he teased.

"Well, both, unless you wish me to tell falsehoods."

He laughed. "Fair enough." He pulled back the covers and carefully placed her, fussing and propping up her leg, before covering her snugly and climbing in next to her. Estelwen found herself enveloped in the heat of his body. 

"Valar, you feel wonderful Erestor! The warmth of your skin..."

"I do not understand," he asked as his hand gently traced down her lovely form. "You have loved your meldir, surely they are warm too?"

"What I mean is, I have never had the experience of laying with another like this for sleep. In the wild we only disrobed to the extent needed to...you know. I have always slept clothed, for I become cold. And in Lórien, we had to be careful. I saw how you were here, and believed you would disapprove of me having any kind of a...reputation. Haldir and I had an arrangement of the greatest discretion. I did not let on that I was open to having partners, because I really was not. I was there to serve you. You are the only one who knows for certain, about Glorfindel and Haldir. To everyone else, we are chaste friends, though I recognize that by their reputation some might wonder. Well, give or take Rúmil, who apparently spied on us one night...ugh. What a repulsive way to behave..."

"You forsook others because you thought I would not approve?" he asked softly.

"Partly. You already know that it was more complicated than only that. But it is true that I would do anything, not to reflect on you unfavorably. I have always honored you, in my heart, and felt the privilege of being allowed to work under you. It is much of why this...what happened to me...was so hard to bear. I felt like I had failed you."

"No, you did not. Please do not think of me this way, Estelwen. But I understand, why you did. I only ever showed you a part of me. That will no longer be the case. I am so proud of you, and not only because I have grown to love you. Will you allow me to show my love for you openly? I would not hide my attachment to you, unless that is what you wish."

"I had not given this or many other things any consideration," she whispered, reaching for him. "Your happiness is mine, Erestor. Whatever you wish for, I am still honored."

Their lips met, the sweetness of their kisses seeming like almost too much to bear in the heady emotion of their newly declared love. Estelwen felt frustrated; there was so much she wished to give him by way of physical delights, and yet she did not have the full use of her limbs. To hear her say this warmed his heart. "Meldis, this will be only the second time in my life I have found joyful completion in the body of an elleth. Believe me when I tell you that while I appreciate your eagerness to share yourself in all ways, my heart is already filled with unimaginable happiness."

Their lovemaking was slower, this time. Erestor covered her in kisses, tasting and appreciating every part of her responsive body. At her request he brought his manhood within her reach, and he discovered a little of what those nimble fingers could offer, and what dexterity her delicate lips had. "Valar!" he moaned in enjoyment. "I will not ask where you learned these delights, but I will remember to thank them." This brought giggles from her as her hands guided him to where she yearned for him to be the most.

Oh, the incomparable sensations they felt, as Erestor moved within her, and she pushed herself against him! Each gentle collision brought a flood of sensation. "Meldis, how did you...manage, with the others? I have been with Glorfindel, and while he is not small, he is not like...me."

She laughed. "If you are willing, sometime we will have him demonstrate what he did for me early on. It was as unique of a solution as I have ever experienced. But...afterward and for Haldir, who is not too different than Glorfindel....this."

Erestor gasped as he felt her muscles clench at him, suddenly gripping his length so tightly that he could barely move. He shuddered from the sheer pleasure of it. "Estelwen! By all there is, if you continue that I will finish too soon!" 

With more giggles, she relaxed once again. "I will give you every delight, my love. But maybe not tonight." They continued their slow, sinuous movements against each other until she confessed at last, "I am at the edge, please, more!" At the fourth forceful thrust into her hot, slick depths that now seemed to close in all around him, both were lost. Their strangled cries of completion passed between lips and tongues entwined as each strained against the other in spasms of ecstasy. Breathing heavily while they subsided, Estelwen whispered, "Annog glass annin, Erestor. Gin melin." (You give me joy, Erestor. I love you.) 

"Melethril," he breathed, covering her cheeks in kisses while his diminishing member gently slipped out of her body. Moving off of her, he laid next to her and sought her hand, wondering if his heart could bear such happiness.

"Tomorrow, Erestor, when you wake with arousal, do not ask. Enjoy my body. Though I did not often have this opportunity, there were few things I relished more than easing this need of my meldir."

"I do not deserve you," he whispered back.

"Yes, you do. And more."

"Is my assistant going to argue with me?" he teased, feeling the strong pull of sleep.

"If it is about showing you love, absolutely," she murmured back.

"I relent."

"Good."


	16. Sixteen

{three weeks later}

Lord Elrond stood just inside the doorway of his library, observing. It was a fine late spring day, and the windows were open, admitting fresh air that drove off some of the distinctive smell of books. The astonishing stack of papers and scrolls that had covered Erestor's desk not so long ago had been vanquished. His Counselor was deep in thought, the end of a quill held between his pink lips. His gaze drifted across the room to see Estelwen similarly engrossed in her work. With a smirk he noted that her wrapped and elevated leg was quite visible. Satisfied that all was not only in order but improving, his eyes turned once again to his raven-haired friend. Little had pleased him more than the change of personal circumstances for his Chief Counselor. It had always caused him to wonder, that Erestor had held himself aloof. But if anyone could find a way, his seneschal could, and matters of the heart were far better entrusted to his capable...skills.  Formal word had arrived of what had befallen Estelwen in the Golden Wood, in the form of a sealed letter from Celeborn. This was not happy news, and yet she appeared to have found healing and happiness in the arms of his Erestor. What other arms may have been involved, he wisely did not want or need to know. 

Finally, he chose to announce himself. "Counselor," he nodded formally, as he moved past Erestor's desk to see Estelwen. Oblivious to him, her lip was held between her teeth in concentration as her enviably perfect script filled out a line of text. Not until she brought her quill toward the inkstand did he speak. "Estelwen, good afternoon. I wondered if I might prevail upon you to accompany me to the Healer's Halls. It is time to further evaluate your injuries."

"My Lord Elrond," she said, bowing her head in respect. "I would ask you to forgive me for not rising but under the circumstances..." Her lips twisted in a wry smile.

"Precisely," he chuckled. Erestor had already left his desk and was hovering anxiously.

Elrond rolled his eyes. "I will not be recommending amputation, Erestor. But I can see you will have no peace now, so perhaps you would bring Estelwen?"

Though she teased her love a little for his needless worry, his concern melted her heart. It was impossible to be irritated with her gentle melethron. Elrond noticed with satisfaction that when his patient reached her arms to Erestor, there was no wincing and full extension of the limb. 

Once at the Halls, he tested the strength and range of motion on her arm, and recommended new exercises to help her improve. Estelwen did not need to ask, for she already saw that Erestor was memorizing every detail. He had been relentless, in requiring her compliance with the first set of instructions, and she had cooperated (however begrudgingly, at times). He unwrapped her leg, fully and examined her ankle. Pushing, pulling, turning, and yet nothing he did brought any pain. "I want you to stand on both feet, now. Erestor, please allow her to hold onto you for balance, but do not try to support her weight. You are to tell me of any discomfort, Estelwen!"

How childish she felt, that her balance was now so poor and her leg so uncooperative, but walk she did, and the sensation was wonderful. Elrond smiled in approval, just before narrating yet another tedious group of stretches and exercises. "Mostly, though, you are now to walk. That will be the best of all. You are to see me again, if there are further problems, but I declare you healed, if not rehabilitated."

"Thank you, my Lord," she murmured appreciatively. Left to her own devices, her mobility might have been permanently ruined, and while the restrictions had chafed, she now realized their importance. She stood, to try and walk out. One last comment was added. "In the beginning she will tire easily, Erestor. You may still carry her, when this happens." Chuckling to himself, he did not miss the look of delight on the elf's face at this pronouncement.

*****

{one week later}

A lovely and joy-filled dinner with Glorfindel and Haldir was followed by fellowship of another sort. It was then, that Erestor and Estelwen confirmed their desire to maintain their special closeness to their meldir. Not ever having experienced anything like this, Erestor was astonished to have his meldis while Glorfindel filled another part of her at the same time, and Haldir took his golden friend. It was erotic, a sensual delight, and their play took many forms over the course of an evening none of them would ever forget. There was pleasure, laughter, and most of all, love. Tomorrow morning, Haldir would return to the Golden Wood, and his duties as Marchwarden.

"I will miss all of you, deeply," he said. "You have brought healing to my heart, and courage to do what I can for my family. And yet I take my joy in knowing that we will be together again, and I will greatly look forward to that occasion. All of you know that you are ever welcome in the eyes of my Lord and Lady, and myself."

Many kisses of parting were exchanged, and at the end of it, Estelwen went to the small pouch she had carried with her, handing it to Haldir. "I promised you I would answer Rúmil, and I have. It also is unsealed. Whether or not to read it is your choice; Erestor and Glorfindel know what it says. But I will take my leave of you now. Partings are hard, for me. I much prefer the joy of greetings." With a final, passionate kiss to Haldir, she left to return to Erestor's rooms. 

After some moments' pause, Erestor stood as well, approaching Haldir. "I have at last come to know you as I have hoped, and you have my love, Marchwarden. I am deeply honored, to now count you among the family of my heart. I will pray for your safe journey and for the healing of your brother. No vaer,"(be well) he whispered, claiming Haldir's lips in a tender and protracted kiss that left no doubt concerning the truth of his words. "And Glorfindel," whose lips he kissed with reverence. "Posto vae." (Rest well).

*****

{three weeks later}

Though he would never begrudge his long walk with Estelwen, Haldir smiled when his swiftly running legs brought him in sight of his beloved wood. The rockslide at the Redhorn Pass had been cleared and by some grace, he encountered no enemies. But to his enjoyment, he did encounter his own patrol.

"Haldir!" Orophin rushed forward to meet him, greeting his brother in a warrior's embrace. "We have but a league more to inspect, and then we return to Caras Galadhon. Will you accompany us? I greatly desire to speak with you." There was little need to guess at the reason for the plea in his brother's eyes. 

"Of course," said the Marchwarden, proudly directing his warriors to continue their patrol. "But I can vouch, all was quiet on my approach. This journey was untroubled." They were swiftly away, silent as the light breeze that moved through the trees as they concluded their duty. The rest of the patrol dismissed, the two brothers fell to quiet conversation. "I am so sorry, Orophin, to have left you with such a burden. And yet I believe my Lady's command was given in wisdom. I did need to be away from here. It had become more than I could endure."

"I read your letter so many times, Haldir. The first two readings caused me to weep. By the tenth, I had brought a month's ration of wine to my talan and made use of it. And after...there was only heartache. When I felt I could approach our rulers without making a spectacle of myself, I did. Our Lady spoke to me, much as she must have spoken to you. Rúmil has not been seen, and I have had no word since. The only thing of which I am certain is that he has not been banished, for she would not be so cruel as to order this and say nothing to me. To us. She told me 'There is always hope', Haldir. But I do not see it. Rúmil has been courting this outcome for a very long time, though even I could not ever imagine he would sink so low."

"I know, brother," he said, sighing. "Though, I think we will have an...update. You may come with me, unless you wish not to. I bear a letter to Rúmil, from Estelwen, and must deliver it to our Lady."

"What could that poor elleth have to say to Rúmil, except to wish for him to see Námo? The rumors were stopped, Haldir, as you commanded. But that did not keep me from seeking out one whom I trust, who told me what had transpired. What was said. I do not even know half the story, but what I have pieced together on my own is more than enough."

"It is in answer to the letter Rúmil wrote Estelwen. Perhaps, was commanded to write. We are not certain. But write her he did, and in it he poured out a repentant heart that took full responsibility for his crimes. That alone is a first, for him. He ever liked to blame others, but not himself. You do not know Estelwen, but I call her meldis. Her heart is kind, and good beyond what even I can understand. She would see him healed, not only for his sake but mine and yours. There is compassion, there."

"Valar!" whispered Orophin. "I too wish for his healing, but half of me yet wants to beat him senseless as well. I pray she has found healing. Something. What Rúmil said of her...she must already endure much," he said unhappily.

"Maybe in the past, but I think no longer. Estelwen long carried love for Erestor of Imladris, and I was privileged to witness their uniting, during these last weeks. She has found bliss, in his arms."

"Erestor?" A whoosh of air escaped his lips. "He was rumored to be immune to attachment...and what a prize, she has claimed. There are few ellyn more highly spoken of in all of Ennor. Not to mention, so beautiful." Even Orophin had once laid eyes on the raven-haired ellon, and felt the pang of desire and yearning.

Haldir laughed. "And the charm of it is, she has no idea. Estelwen simply loves him for who he is, with no real thought to his position or title."

"Do you think they will wed?"

Haldir tilted his head. It was a good question. Usually when their kind paired off, they would forsake all others. And yet his dear friends seemed to have made it plain that this would not be their intention. Not, at least, with regard to he and Glorfindel. "I cannot presume to say, Orophin," was his honest answer. "But as with all things, time will tell."

The letter was delivered to the Lady Galadriel, who smiled but said little more than that Rúmil was doing as well as could be hoped for. As badly as both brothers wished to know more, they knew there would be no further discussion and bowed their heads deeply in obedience as they withdrew.

Once they were gone, Galadriel unfolded the parchment that she knew its author intended to be not entirely private. Her eyebrows arched as a half-smile played around her lips. _How elegant, and yet how almost cruel. But it is cruelty with love behind it, and a depth of compassion. I am now doubly saddened, to have lost this shining jewel who would have without question risen to become among the most honored scholars and counselors of our land. And yet, for her to have at last found her happiness, I will manage._ Rising, she ascended higher into the mellyrn, to see Rúmil.

Galadriel found him as she always found him, at some menial task in the small talan that now served as his home and his place of house arrest. Some days it was sanding arrow shafts. Other times, peeling mountains of potatoes or slicing fruits for drying. Or perhaps the carding of wool. It did not matter to her, as long as it was tedious, lowly, and something most would find unenjoyable. Today it was cleaning seed by hand; he was surrounded by dozens of large sacks of grain and each and every handful was to be physically checked for freedom from defects and the germ of weeds and other plants. Bent over at a table, he did not hear her approach. "Rúmil," she spoke. 

Lifting his golden head, surprise was in his mild eyes as he rose and knelt before her. "My Lady," he said with simple respect.

"Rise, Rúmil," she asked, offering her hand to him. 

He took it, but swiftly released her fingers. Of anyone, he did not deserve to touch her. He waited, with eyes cast down. "Your brother Haldir has returned from Imladris," she said simply. "He brought something to me. Estelwen has replied to your letter." This was brought forth from her cloak, and placed on his worktable. "I take my leave of you."

Rúmil stood frozen, for many long minutes, looking at the folded parchment. His heart hammered in his chest. Finally he forced himself to take it in his hands. He sat down, needing several more minutes before he could unfold the creases. And he read.

_Rumil. It took, I think, the better part of two months to read your letter. Or rather, to hear it read. I never did take the page into my hands. In the beginning, it was given to Glorfindel, so that he could decide for me what of your words to reveal. I had determined that you had already abused me enough for one lifetime. The only part he spoke, verbatim, was the very end of your letter; the rest was paraphrased. I was content enough to never hear the rest of it, but your brother Haldir needed to hear what I did not. For by now you surely realize, that for all the weeks of pain I endured from broken bones and a torn spirit, that your brother suffered just as much. Maybe more. For I have no brothers and sisters, and cannot fully understand the anguish I saw. I only know that I did see it, in one beautiful and pure of heart and who I love, and that it is another wrong I hold against you. I hope you do find the redemption you seek, truly. But words are easy to speak, or write. I find that actions matter a great deal more. So what I have to say to you is this: I cannot be the first one you have ever wronged. When, if, your opportunity comes, prove that you have truly changed. Do you know why your brother is loved, Rúmil? It is because he loves others. When he learns what is private, he keeps confidences. When he learns of pain in another, he works tirelessly to heal. When he finds sorrow, he determines to replace it with joy. He is a support for the weak, a defender to the vulnerable, and for all his strength and skill at arms, his true weapons are his gentleness, kindness and his willing heart. When I hear your name spoken alongside his, in renown for your selflessness, your care, and the love and regard you have earned by your deeds, then you shall have my forgiveness. Then, what you have given will match what you took from me without right. I leave you with hope. It is up to you, whether or not you find its fruit. -Estelwen._

With a keening cry,  he slid from his chair to the floor, his body wracked by sobs, his head held in his hands as he folded up double in grief. As his emotion released and poured out, a kind of calm was brought with it. Acceptance. Resignation. "I will do as you bid, Estelwen. For I must. I am so, so sorry...."

Galadriel once again stood in the doorway, watching the broken ellon, weighing her next decision. She knelt next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Startled and wrung out, he hung his head. "You have been given an opportunity, one I see you choose to try to make use of," she said softly. "This, then, is my next judgement. Your sentence here of work is to continue, until four more cycles of the moon have passed. You will yet call this place home. But you may now come and go freely within Caras Galadhon; you are not to leave the confines of our city. A difficult task likes ahead for you, Rúmil. You will endure rejection, and abuse, in the beginning, especially among your former comrades-at-arms. There may be times when you will feel only despair. You are to come to me; I will know if you do not. Your brothers yet love you, and will guide your steps as well." Her hand moved to her garments once again, to produce a single green beryl, mounted as the center of a golden mallorn blossom. All Galadhrim knew this as the personal symbol of the Lady, and Rúmil gasped as she bound the cord that held this pendant around his neck. "I will not send you forth without some means of success. What your past deeds have done to earn the disdain of others, this may help to allay. You are yet loved, Rúmil. You did not ask for mercy but I will show it to you nonetheless, for I believe in you." With a kiss to his brow, she murmured words of blessing, and left him. For a long time, he remained kneeling, but now in silent prayer.

*****

It had required more courage to descend to the City below than for Rúmil to face a hundred orcs, but after nightfall he forced himself to do just that. Because the first place he needed to begin on this long and terrifying path ahead was at the feet of his own brothers, and he greatly feared that by waiting, he would lose his chance. They were warriors; they could leave on long patrols, not to be together for days or weeks. He saw that there was light cast from Hadir's talan, and with a pounding and heavy heart, he ascended and knocked softly, entering only when summoned by the cheerful "Come in!"

Both his brothers were here, and without hesitation he approached them. Their faces blanched, at the sight of him. He was visibly thinner, and appeared drawn. They stood, at his approach, only to watch openmouthed as he dropped to his knees before them. "I have wronged you both, and harmed your good names. I do not deserve to be your brother. I want you to know how sorry I am, though I know this can never erase the damage I have done. If I only would have listened to you...I barely know what to say. I am so sorry..."

Rúmil cried, when both his brothers lifted and embraced him. While they were relieved at what they saw, they were worried, too. What stood before them seemed utterly broken. They made him sit, and Orophin brought him some of the rich soup they had been sharing. "Were you denied food, in punishment?" Haldir asked. Part of him already knew that this was a ridiculous thing to ask, and yet he had to understand the reason for the physical change in his brother.

Rúmil shook his head No. "Your blow broke my jaw, Haldir. As I deserved. It was a long time healing, and I could only take broth. And...I was not exactly hungry. I still am not, though I know I must eat."

"Will you tell us what happened?" Orophin asked.

"There is little to tell," he answered. "Lord Celeborn wished me banished, but the Lady refused and took responsibility for...me. Since the day of my arrest, I have remained under sentence in a small talan high above their dwelling. It is my punishment still, to live and work more months there, at whatever tasks to which I am set. Only today, was I granted the privilege to come and go. It was not easy for me to come here, but I had to. I did not want to miss the chance to speak to my brothers."

"You read Estelwen's letter," Haldir said. 

"Yes," Rúmil said. "And now begins my long road to earning her forgiveness for my crimes."

"If it is not too forward of me to ask, what did it say?" inquired Orophin.

With a hand that trembled slightly, Rúmil produced the letter from his cloak and placed it on the table. "You may read it, either of you. You will find I have no pride left," he said quietly. "Consider me as the lowliest of your brethren, for that is what I am."

Orophin read, his eyes growing wider with each passing sentence. He looked meaningfully at Haldir, who shook his head. Long ago, he had seen its contents. 

"Thank you, for the soup," Rúmil said appreciatively. "I never told you how much I enjoyed your cooking, Haldir, or thanked you for all the time you spent in providing us with meals. I never thanked you for being both mother and father, to me, but I am thanking you now." He lifted his hazel eyes as he spoke, and only then could the brothers observe what was bound at his neck. Haldir's eyes widened, and Rúmil saw. "Do not think too much of it," he said. "I believe that this was set on me mostly so that I would avoid being beaten to a pulp by those I used to call comrades," he said. "While I would have deserved that, too, the Lady's mercy in this means a great deal. I am thankful."

Orophin sat back in his chair, baffled at all he had seen. Some variation on the word "thank" had been heard from Rúmil's lips more times in the past fifteen minutes than in his entire lifetime, near as he could recall.

"I should go now. But if I would be welcome, I would very much like to see you again. I have missed you both, terribly."

"Of course you are welcome," Haldir said. But he was careful not to say more. He would make it a little easier than what Estelwen had done, but not by much. Like her, he believed that actions spoke loudest. "May we walk you back, know where you are staying?"

"Yes."

Rúmil led the way, as they walked together without speaking. Haldir frowned at how even he had not realized that the talans of the Lord and Lady went this high into the mellyrn, which felt vaguely inexcusable for one who held the title of Marchwarden. Later, he would have to explore this area more thoroughly.  Candles were lit, when they arrived, illuminating the small cot and blankets that appeared barely able to hold their brother's tall frame. "What are all these sacks of grain?" asked Orophin, baffled.

"My work," Rúmil answered. "This is seed, that must be cleaned for sowing. I do what I am asked to do. I do not mind."

Orophin hugged his brother. He needed to leave, before his carefully concealed feelings could not longer be contained. "It was good to see you. We will eat supper together again tomorrow, and would like it very much if you would come."

"Thank you. I will look forward to it, more than you know."

Haldir too kissed him, and bade him rest well. The pair were not far down the walkway when a glance backward told them the candles had already been extinguished. They said nothing, until they were fully descended from the Lord and Lady's great complex. "By all the Valar, Haldir! He is so unlike himself that I feel afraid. Arrogant Rúmil, content to sort grains of wheat? The same one who scorned to help wash the earthenware or do any sort of menial task? What has happened to him?"

With a glance up at the underside of the mallorn leaves gleaming silver in the moonlight, he answered his brother. "He has been destroyed, Orophin. Consumed by the fire of his own making. This needed to happen. What remains to us, is to love and care for the tiny seedling that must grow from the ashes. He must not be overwatered with coddling, nor must he be allowed to wither and despair in the heat of others' scorn. That is why the Lady placed her sign upon him. I know Rúmil's reputation as well as you do; without it I believe he would have little hope. That being said, he will reap what he has sown amongst others, until he can find a means by which to change their perceptions."

Orophin did not reply, but only sighed, as the leaves rustled overhead.


	17. Seventeen

{one thousand years later}

Estelwen and Erestor stopped their work and put away their writing materials. Tonight was a special occasion; the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood had arrived in Imladris. Word had spread like wildfire through their small community. They were joined by their daughter Celebrían, who Estelwen had met in her time among the mellyrn but interacted with little. But most of all the deep shock engendered was from the rest of the information: The rulers of Lórien wished to sail West. They would not have believed it, had not Glorfindel himself relayed the tidings after speaking with Haldir, who had accompanied them in escort. Rule of their city had been turned over to Amroth, who would care for the Galadhrim under the oversight of his father and king, Amdír. The party would rest here in Lord Elrond's haven on their way to Belfalas.

Once in the privacy of their rooms, for she had long ago forsaken her old quarters, Estelwen shook her head. "I cannot imagine the Golden Wood without the Lord and Lady," she said sadly.

"It is difficult for me, too," replied Erestor. "And yet you know as well as I that  there was a time when the forest stood before their arrival. Before the Lady brought the mellyrn seeds, and created the great city in the magnificent trees."

"We will see our friend, tonight. Our beloved Haldir will be with us again, at least for a time."

"Yes," Erestor agreed, moving close to her. "Estelwen, there is something you should know. Orophin traveled here with him, as well."

"Oh! I never really met him, when I lived there. I will be glad to make his acquaintance."

"And Rúmil." His arms came around her, as her body stiffened.

"Oh."

Erestor felt for her, but it was difficult to focus on this. He had for weeks now thought about what he wished to do once the stars emerged tonight, and his anxiety was hard to disguise, but so far he had succeeded.

*****

At dinner Estelwen did her best to dissemble, and behave as though nothing were the matter, but Erestor knew better. His melethril was unusually quiet, but unfailingly polite. She greeted the Lord and Lady afterward with reverence, and Galadriel smiled to see that her gift was still worn at Estelwen's neck. The Lady looked to Erestor and then back to her, and the two ellith's eyes met in an understanding and a moment of shared happiness. Unexpectedly, Galadriel took her hand, and drew her away. "Walk with me, Estelwen. I have had enough of formalities, for one hour." Erestor felt a twinge of nervousness, but did not interfere.

So she did, guiding Galadriel to her favorite garden in their peaceful home in the waning moments of full daylight. "Nothing here compares to the mellyrn, my Lady. And yet it is my home."

"We call many places home, with the passing of years," Galadriel said, seating herself on a bench, her famed golden hair all but aglow. So much taller was she than Estelwen, the sitting made conversing easier. With a penetrating gaze, she searched the younger elleth's face. "A very long time ago, you sent a letter to Rúmil. I know you have heard by now that he is among our party, and this is why I wished to speak to you."

Estelwen found it difficult, but she met the Lady's gaze. "I will not try to be untruthful. That he is here fills me with distress. His is a face and name I have sought to think on as little as possible."

"You yet feel very unkindly disposed toward him, then?"

"No. Not exactly. It is not that. It is...I had a single letter from him to which I responded. I do not know what has become of him. Part of me does not want to care, but that is the part that yet harbors the memory of hurt. Maybe what I am most afraid of is to find out that nothing changed, for him. I recognize that more than anything, mine is a fear of the unknown. An anxiety. I am not the strongest elleth to grace these shores in mind or body, Lady, but I have tried to be honest, both with myself and others."

"And so you have been, while humbly not recognizing that this quality requires more strength than many possess." Galadriel looked ahead. "If I may advise you in this, perhaps it would be better to, as they say, 'get it over with.' The longer you delay finding out, the worse you will feel. But I am here to tell you also that which you do not know. Rúmil did change, and much of why is because of you. I was there, unseen, when he read your letter so long ago. What came forth was the cry of a shattered spirit. He has tirelessly worked to heed your stipulation to him. Through great hardship, he has transformed. He came all this way at my request, in the hopes of finally hearing your words of forgiveness. So I ask you now, not as Lady of the Golden Wood but as one elleth to another, do you believe you can grant this?"

Estelwen's lips parted, and her hand reflexively reached for her pendant. "Then I already have," she spoke very softly. "If he upheld what I asked of him, he is forgiven."

"I understand your adherence to your stated words," Galadriel pressed. "Maybe it would be better had I asked, can you find the mercy in your heart to let him hear this from you in person? In no way will I diminish the severity of his crime against you, Estelwen. I only wish you to know that it is the hope of this, that has driven him on. Being forgiven and believing that he is forgiven, those are two different things."

Her eyes looked down. "If this is your wish, I will. You guided me to my great happiness and gave me hope when I believed I had none. I will not take his away, if it is as important as you tell me. But...I do not know where he is, and I am not certain I can manage this in front of many others. For though I can forgive, it has proven very hard to forget," she said with trembling in her voice, as unwanted tears streamed down her cheeks. "You would think that after a thousand years, this could not matter any longer. But as I said, I am not strong."

"You are stronger than you know. And you need not worry, for only you and I need be present. Rúmil is here, now.  Rúmil?" she added, beckoning him over.

Rúmil had been ordered to follow, at a small distance, and shook with fear. And that fear was blanketed in grief, as he was made to overhear their exchange. But this was the moment for which he had prayed, which he had dreamed of and imagined countless thousands of times. His feet were forced forward, by sheer will alone as Estelwen sat frozen, unable to move, until it was no longer possible to ignore that he stood in front of her. _Tall_ , she thought. _He was very tall. Taller than Haldir..._

Kneeling before her, Rúmil looked into the unusual eyes he remembered, his face ashen. There had been a speech, one he had rehearsed in his mind each of those thousands of times. It had been edited and rearranged and memorized, and all of it failed him now. "Please," he begged. "Though I still have no right to ask, would you forgive me, Estelwen?" Tears poured from his eyes. However he had envisioned this moment, it fell victim to the honesty of his heart, and he found that he did not care.

Estelwen looked at Rúmil, and found that nothing she saw matched her memory. Perhaps the hair color, or maybe the eyes? But the voice was soft, not the brashly confident tones that rang in her mind. The expression she remembered as aloof and proud was not the same, either. This face was sad, and tormented. Only then did she realize, she had endured some difficulty and then found her true love and great happiness. And in all this long while of her being blessed, he had been...this. Suffering, beaten down. While that outcome had all been of his own doing, there was no joy for her in it. What she really wanted was for it to be...over. To move beyond all this. And with that understanding, the words tumbled out: "I forgive you, Rúmil."

"Thank you, for your kindness and mercy," he said, not meeting her eyes, as he slowly rose to leave.

"Wait," she said. "Stay here." Turning to the Lady, she asked, "Would you allow us to speak privately, please?"

Visibly surprised, Galadriel bowed her head once and left. She did not foresee all things, and wondered very much what would come of this.

"Please sit, Rúmil," Estelwen asked, patting the seat next to her.

In disbelief, the ellon did as he was asked, still struggling to regain some mastery over his emotions. 

"Look at me."

This he did as well, with eyes full of trepidation.

"I cannot have it end like this," she said. "You will run off and hide, and I will still spend every moment furtively glancing around each room or walkway to see if you are near. You will leave still feeling fear and misery and I will still think of you and feel anxiety and doubt. Don't you see, it is no good?"

While he knew the truth of her words, he accepted long ago that this would always be his problem. But he did not wish for it to be hers as well. Not after all the harm he had already caused.

He spoke to his hands that lay folded on his lap. "What else is there to do, Estelwen? I do not deserve to be speaking with you. I have felt fear at the thought of you for so long now, I no longer recall anything else. It is what I have earned; this is my fate."

"No, do you not see?" She stood up, so diminutive that all this did was place her at his same eye level. "If it is your fate, then it is my fate as well. I am tired of being bound to your name with only this horrible memory between us, Rúmil. Glorfindel said once, that he wanted it to be as though none of this had ever happened, even though he was not certain it was possible. I did not fully understand him then, but I think I do now. What was the good of hoping for all these long years for my forgiveness and receiving it, if nothing inside or out actually changes because of it? For either of us? Nothing! That is not hope at all. When hope is realized it brings something for the better." And then as she spoke to him, she saw it. "The Lady gave you that?" Her finger pointed at the jewel at his throat. He nodded dumbly, feeling vaguely terrified by her proximity. "It is a beryl. Do you know what beryls mean?"

"This is Galadriel's symbol. The mark of the Lady," he answered, flummoxed.

"Yes, I know that. But beryls mean something on their own. They symbolize Hope."

Both of them looked at each other, and somehow murmured at the same time, "There is always Hope."

Estelwen's face was unreadable as she stood there, thinking.  Finally she said, "You are coming with me. Offer me your arm."

"What?" he asked, feeling as though he might faint.

"You heard me. Offer me your arm. Long ago, you invited me for a walk in the woods. You were supposed to be polite and pleasant to me, and I was supposed to enjoy making the acquaintance of the brother of one I revere and admire. And that is what is going to happen. We are going to wash over what never should have been and replace it with something else."

"But..."

"Rúmil, are you going to sit there and argue with me?"

"No, I..."

"Then stand up, and offer me your arm, or I will become very angry with you."

Hoping that he would survive this new ordeal, he obeyed her, still staring in disbelief as the tiny hand took his arm, just as it had once so long ago. "This way." They walked on in silence for a time, Estelwen not quite certain what she was doing, and Rúmil more or less moving in a daze. Finally she broke the silence, as she maneuvered him along paths that ascended to the higher places in their valley. "So what happened, to you? We have not seen each other in over a thousand years. Surely you have some story to tell. I wish to hear it."

Somehow, he found he could answer her. Maybe it was because he had half-convinced himself that this was some sort of a waking dream. "I was sentenced to be banished for my crime against you, but the Lady countermanded it. I was given a talan in which to live and work, and for many months was not permitted to leave. I had much time, alone with my thoughts and my sorrow. When your letter came, it was granted me to move about Caras Galadhon once again, though five hundred years would pass before I was allowed to go further. For some months after your letter, I had to do more work of a kind that I suspect was meant to be a punishment but..." he shrugged. "It did not matter, I would have done anything anyone asked of me, so broken was my pride. When that time was over, I still did as I was asked, it just changed from day to day. My real work was seeking to fulfill the task you had set for me. At first it was very hard. As you know I was a warrior, a Captain of our forces. I lost that privilege the day I wronged you. My former associates had little good to say to me. It did not stop me from apologizing, and seeking to do better. When there were injured, I tended them. When I saw someone lonely, especially elflings, I tried to be a friend. I forced myself to talk to others, to learn about them, and found that there was much to care about, many who were ill at ease in one manner or another. I supposed you could say that I have tried to be like Haldir. For a long time, no one really trusted me, but then, it changed. I can honestly tell you that I did all I knew how to do, Estelwen. If only I had not wasted so much of my life before I came to understand the lesson I learned on account of you. I am still so sorry."

They had by now reached the overlook of the valley, a beautiful domed structure that held a commanding view for miles to the west. There were benches, and they sat. "Suddenly, I am not," she said, holding his arm tighter.

"What?" he had not dared look at her much, but he was looking now. "You cannot possibly mean that," he said, aghast.

"Actually, yes, I can. For a very long time, I had no reference for you. You did this awful thing to me, and then it was as if you were erased. Hearing this, realizing all those you must have helped, all the lives you changed for the better, now it seems worth it. Unpleasant, but entirely worth it."

"Worth it?"

"Honestly Rúmil, do you suffer from echolalia? Yes, worth it. I would rather that none of it had ever happened. I would rather that you had not been someone capable of hurting another as you did. But if this is what it took for you to fall so low that you had to finally face yourself, and be reborn into what you have become, then I will count it a sacrifice that was worth it."

At hearing this, he gave way to tears. "Valar, I am so sorry..." he buried his face in his hands.

Estelwen poked him in the arm. Repeatedly. "I can see that. You must stop crying, Rúmil. That is what forgiveness means, that you can stop thinking all the time on how sorry you are. There may always be pain with the memory, but this is continuing to punish yourself." With difficulty he forced himself to look up, if only because the poking was becoming a distraction he could not ignore.

"Are you always this strange?" he asked, sniffling.

"Sometimes." It was true enough.

"What...about you" he asked, almost forgetting to make it sound like a question. "What happened to you, in all these years? I hoped you were well. Haldir said that you had taken a love, Erestor. It gave me some happiness, to know this about you."

"That sums up much of my life," Estelwen admitted. "I am not someone you would probably find very exciting. I loved Erestor since first I saw him, and though I thought this was hopeless we came together not long after I returned home. Otherwise; I am a scribe, a scholar. I read things, I write things, I think about things, and then I write more things after that. Really, Erestor, my work, and that I like to throw knives sums up my existence. Not very interesting, for one who has been a warrior."

"I would not say that. After...you, I began to fill some of my time in the library. Reading. I found that I appreciated more the value of learning, and the sharing of knowledge. I could not compare to what you do, but sometimes I helped Master Salfir, and copied documents." Rúmil laughed softly, the first such sound she had heard from him. "He told me my script was passable. But only just. I have seen your work, and it is perfection. How anyone can write so well..."

"Well, it is all I do. That you know anything at all of my craft...I do not speak of it much. Mostly, it is the fastest way to have the eyes of another glaze over."

This brought not only a small laugh but a smile, as well. He glanced at her. "Haldir told me, of how you can throw. I confess, I would like to see it. I used to not be too bad, but was always better with a bow."

"Choose a target," Estelwen said, feeling mischievous at seeing his hesitation. "Go on, just have it be someplace one of us can reach, because I want my knife back."

"That lamp post," he said, pointing. "Just above the ornament on it."

With a fluid motion, her blade was drawn and sailing though the air, sinking into the exact spot.

"Eru!" he said, deeply impressed, rising to retrieve it for her. "I suppose I should count myself fortunate that I was not outright slain."

She shook her head. "By that point, I feel sure my accuracy would not have been so good. You were safe enough." Misery began to creep over his face again. And he felt his arm poked. "No.  No you don't. Remember? Besides, I have more questions. I have never met Orophin. Tell me about him."

This went on for hours. They walked to the observatory to see the stars and Ithil overhead, and passed near the waterfalls. She kept her hand on his arm, until he no longer seemed to fear her touch. And at some point, he covered her tiny hand with his and she did not pull away. Perhaps it was the valley itself, said to be a place of rest and healing. Walking and walking, sometimes speaking, sometimes not. Finally the hour had grown late. "Do you feel any different?" she asked, breaking a long silence.

"Yes. Though I do not fully understand how. You have given me a gift, Estelwen. One I neither looked for or deserve, but for which I am grateful."

"You have given me one as well. No longer will you be a word in my mind that brings unhappiness. Now you are someone I know that has thoughts and feelings. Maybe even someone I could eventually call a friend."

He stopped in his tracks. "You could ever think of me as a friend, after what I did?"

"Yes. To all appearances, the ellon who hurt me is dead. And yet because of him, like it or not, we will always have a connection. Which would you rather have it be, one of endless misery, or one of something nicer?"

They continued, but with their steps turned toward the House of Elrond. "I find," he said slowly, "that it is not so easy to stop punishing myself. I have been doing it for a long time, and a part of me wishes to keep on."

"Yes. But as long as you do, you will punish both of us. So now I place the burden back on you, Rúmil. Set us both free. You will be here awhile. You are the brother of my meldir. Open yourself to the possibility of something better than what you have allowed yourself. I would welcome it, to see you with him. Or without him. Tell Haldir, what happened tonight." Their steps had approached the house, and she stopped. "Bend down, please, you are too tall." Instead, he went down on one knee. "Thank you, for walking with me. Go in peace, Rúmil, for it has too long been absent from your heart." She pulled his face to hers, and kissed him on the forehead. "Rest well." Estelwen left, and Rúmil rose, slowly moving to his assigned room. For the first time he could recall, he drifted to sleep without a crushing weight on his heart.

When she entered their rooms, she did not expect to find Erestor seated in a chair, staring fixedly at the door. "I am sorry, to have kept you waiting," she said. "Nothing about this evening went according to plan, for me."

"Or me," he echoed, disappointed.

"Meldir?"

"Tonight I had hoped to celebrate with you, Estelwen. And then you disappeared with the Lady and did not return, even when she did."

"I can see I have made a mistake. I did not intend to, Erestor, and I am sorry. I have never had a night like this in my life. Please, I need you. I feel more than a little lost."

"Why did you not return?"

"Because the Lady brought me away to basically force me to meet with Rúmil, is why. And I dealt with that as best as I could manage, and needed much more time than I thought."

His sharp mind understood quickly. "You spent all this time with Rúmil? _RÚMIL??_ " 

Estelwen stepped back, never having seen this in him before. Anger flashed in his eyes, and she could not bear it. Turning, she fled the room and ran. Down the hall, out the doors, her fleet feet took her down many steps as she tried to stifle her sobs. Onward to the Gatehouse, and beyond to the west, she sought the trees beyond the banks of the Bruinen. Anywhere, but here. 

 _What just happened? Any of it? Erestor has never raised his voice to me, ever. Why was he so angry? Because I had been with Rúmil? Surely he could not possibly imagine...not after the promises I have made to him, not after._..none of this made any sense, and she cried bitter tears. Desiring to find a place in a tree, she climbed but in a moment of distraction, her vision blurred with tears, she missed her handhold. There was a blow to her head, and no more.


	18. Eighteen

{the next morning}

"Glorfindel!" Erestor frantically knocked at the doors of his friend's room. "Please, Glorfindel!" The door was yanked roughly open by the groggy seneschal. 

"Erestor, what is this madness? It is the rest day, and I had hoped to rest. Valar!"

"Please, meldir. Estelwen is gone and I am so afraid. Something is wrong, I can feel it."

That woke him up in a hurry.

"What in Arda do you mean, she is gone? You are a scholar. Start making sense." He was still none too pleased, to find himself out of his warm bed.

"Estelwen returned to our rooms very late last night, unhappy. But I was unhappier, because I had hoped to spend the evening with her.  Galadriel had required her to meet with Rúmil, and she more or less told me that she had spent the entire evening with him. I did not wait for more explanation. In my disappointment I grew very angry, and raised my voice to her. She fled out the door. I went to bed, but could not  sleep. I began looking in our office, the library, the Hall of Fire, the gardens, any of the places I know her to go. And I cannot find her. This is not like her. Please, I have not your skills. Help me," he pleaded.

"Varda," muttered the seneschal. "Erestor, forgive me, but you are prone to becoming anxious. In a thousand years you two have not had so much as a disagreement, and you are unaccustomed to strife. What was so important, that you grew angry with her? You of all people should know what it must have been for her, to face Rúmil. What were you thinking?"

"I am an idiot," the dark elf said morosely. "I had placed so much expectation on the evening, that it was all I could think of. My disappointment and frustration ran away with me." Tears pooled in his beautiful eyes.

"You are still making no sense, meldir. Disappointment about what? Surely it was an evening like any other?" 

Erestor shook his head. "It was the anniversary of the day we came together. I....was going to ask her to marry me, Glorfindel," he confessed in abject misery.

"Did you celebrate this, between you?" 

"No, but I kept it in my thoughts...."

Glorfindel did not know whether he wanted to hug the distraught elf in pity or slap him. Raising his eyes to the ceiling, he let out a cavernous sigh. "Very well, let me dress, and hope in the meantime I can formulate something that passes for logic."

By the time he was prepared to leave (having crammed several pieces of dried fruit into his mouth while he dressed, to answer for the breakfast he feared he would be denied), a plan had arrived in his mind. "Come. We are going to my office. In the next half hour, most of the patrols and guards will rotate out. They are the first place to begin. If there was a chance of her being seen, they would have been the ones to see."

All of that transpired as he said, and there was no news until the guard came from the Gatehouse. "Only one unusual thing happened, my Lord. Perhaps five hours ago, someone ran out the gatehouse path. I could not see who, in the dim light, but it did not appear to be an individual of very great stature. They ran far out, disappearing finally into the trees near the Bruinen." At this, Glorfindel's eyes widened. "North or south?"

"North or south what, my Lord?"

Glorfindel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did the person you saw  go into the trees on the north or south side of the river?"

"Oh! North, my Lord. Forgive me."

"Thank you," the seneschal said, somehow keeping kindness in his voice as he turned to Erestor.

"I will not waste time, now, my friend. Asfaloth cannot carry three. I must go."  Glorfindel flew out the door, but Erestor was at his heels. "What are you doing? You have no horse."

"Elrond does, and I am going to ride it."

"He will not be happy, Erestor."

"It is easier to ask forgiveness when there is no time to ask permission."

It was the work of seconds to mount the horses; neither ellon would waste time with saddles. Truthfully, Glorfindel did not realize Erestor could ride. He had never known him to do anything, except write documents, though he had to have learned his knife skills somewhere. They urged their horses to a canter, pressing for yet more speed when they were out the gatehouse portal. When they reached the valley floor, Glorfindel's trained eyes began scanning...everything. "Please, not again," he whispered to himself, as he saw a shade of color on the ground that should not be. Urging his mount forward, he flew off the back of the horse to see the crumpled body of Estelwen. Rushing to her, he thanked the Valar when he saw she breathed. "Meldis? Meldis, please speak to me. Can you hear me?"

And once more, the small voice asked, "Glo'fn'el?"

Erestor was beside himself. Glorfindel took one look at his friend and could see he would be perfectly useless. "Meldir, I will bring her back. What you must do, immediately, is ride with haste and wake Lord Elrond." The Counselor hesitated for a moment, anguish written on his face, before coming to his senses. He sprang back onto Elrond's prized stallion and rode away. Shaking his head, the golden elf returned his attention to Estelwen. "Meldis, can you tell me what happened?" There was no reply, and he shook her gently. "Meldis? What happened?"

"Fellindadree," was what he thought he heard. And as that made no sense whatsoever, he decided on something simpler.

"I need to move you. Can you tell me what hurts?"

"Dunno. Glo'f'nel?"

 _Varda._..he decided to simply risk it, and pick her up very gently. Cradling her against him, he once again blessed his foresight in training Asfaloth to kneel. Otherwise, how he would have  regained his seat without jostling his precious cargo was beyond him. He asked the horse for the smoothest, fastest gait he could manage, and soon they were moving in an easy canter. With all the haste he could manage, he all but rode to the doors of the Healer's Halls, commandeering an ellon who was passing by to return Asfaloth to the stables. With any luck, the walkways would remain free of manure before he had to hear about _that_ , too. Erestor had completed his task with alacrity, for a disgruntled  Elflord stood waiting, though his face softened at the sight of Estelwen. As Glorfindel laid her down on one of the examination tables, Erestor gulped in air to see that the seneschal's tunic had blood on it. With a meaningful look at Glorfindel and a backward glance at Erestor, the message was clear enough: 'Get him out of here.'

"Come, my friend. Our task is done. Now we will go have some tea, and perhaps a roll. It will be awhile, and you must keep up your strength." An iron grip on Erestor's shoulders maneuvered him unwillingly to the kitchens. It was too early yet for breakfast, but there were small items of food to be had. Glorfindel emerged with a plate of rolls, butter and honey, and two mugs of tea. When he noticed Erestor nervously sipping at the tea, he sighed. "Meldir, you will eat. Do not test my easygoing good nature further."

"I am sorry. I cannot help how I am, but I will try." He tried to butter a roll, but when Glorfindel saw his hands shaking, he realized the truth of Erestor's words. His friend was not like him. 

The golden elf looked about; no one else was around.  "Give me your hand, Erestor."  The seneschal enfolded the delicate fingers. "Close your eyes, and breathe deeply." There was little to see, but much to be felt. Peace, a consuming peace, settled over Erestor. He felt his hand released, and looked up at his friend with gratitude-filled eyes. He buttered his roll, and quietly began eating.

*****

"She has a concussion, a broken rib, and a sprained wrist. I am prescribing medicine for her pain, bed rest, and no use of the wrist for two weeks. Which is also to stay wrapped, except to bathe. It may be longer, but that is when I will next want to evaluate her. She has been given the medication; here is more; every six hours or when she complains too much of pain. There is no reason she cannot return to your rooms, Counselor." 

The seneschal looked at Erestor, who was much calmer. "Take her back. I must check on something at the stables. I will come to see you, afterward."

Erestor lifted her in his arms, feeling a heavy burden of guilt. "I am so sorry, meldis," he whispered. 

"Glo'fin'el?" she asked groggily. "Myeadurts."

"You are going to bed, Estelwen. Then you can sleep."

She did not reply, but smiled.

****

{Four days later}

A soft knock came on the door. "Come in," Estelwen droned mechanically, wondering who it was this time.

"Is that anyway to greet your meldir?" a familiar voice asked Haldir peeked around the bedroom entrance.

"Haldir! Forgive me, I did not know it was you. I thought you were another person coming to offer me a flower and telling me to get well soon. Though I appreciate the sentiment, it is making me entirely cranky."

"So should I smash the pretty flower I brought you?" he teased, waggling a daffodil in his hand.

"No. Not when you have brought me that." She reached out, making a grabby-hand. He laughed, and gave it to her, sitting down, grinning while she admired it. "Will you put it in water for me? I do not do so well at moving, just yet." 

"So why do you like my flower so much? Oh, and by the way, I brought company. I thought you would not mind."

Before managing to work out what he meant, she answered the first question. "Because daffodils symbolize..."

"New beginnings," another voice concluded, as Rúmil entered the room, holding one as well.  Seeing the vase, he added his own before taking a seat.

"So they do," Estelwen said, surprised and pleased on some level to see him. "It is good to see you. Both of you." She looked directly at Rúmil, emphasizing her words.

"What happened to you, meldis?" Haldir asked, still baffled at what he had heard.

"I fell out of a tree. Again. I am beginning to think I am a poor excuse for an elf." 

"I see. Now what really happened, since that answer reminds me of what Rúmil here used to say to avoid actually explaining anything  to me when he was perhaps ten years of age?"

"Oh, fine," she said. "But only if you both promise me not to go wringing your hands over this." Something in her glare caused both ellyn to smile and agree, if only to humor her.

"After I left you, Rúmil, I returned here. Erestor was still up and he was upset because he had wanted to do something with me, though he had not told me earlier. Honestly, I still do not actually know what all that was about. But he was angry, and he raised his voice to me. I was not able to cope with that after the sum of my emotionally laden encounter," she said acerbically. "So I did what any sensible elleth would do, I ran off to the forest near the river and decided to climb a tree while I was crying. Bad idea. There. Now you can tease me for the next several weeks." It seemed wise to leave out the part about Erestor specifically hollering about Rúmil, because she feared that would be too hurtful to him. Besides, it did not need saying.

"We will tease you later," said Rúmil to her great surprise. "It is unfair, to one still on pain medication. Is it not, brother?"

"Indeed," Haldir said gravely. "We came prepared to be much more pleasant than our usual selves."

"Oh? And how is that?" 

"We thought we would read to you."

*****

When Erestor finished his day's unproductive work, hampered further by his newly restored habit of raising his head to stare at Estelwen's empty desk, he did not know what to make of hearing an unknown male voice reading...poetry? to Estelwen. The first thing to arrest his attention was the quality of the voice. Soft, well-modulated; whoever this was had some skill at elocution. He advanced noiselessly to see an ellon seated there who looked something like Haldir, and yet not. His lips parted in astonishment until a different thing caught his eye; Haldir had risen and was leaving the room to approach Erestor, beckoning silently for him to follow. Once outside, the dark elf queried. "Is that...."

"Rúmil. Yes. And I am here to ask you now, if he was any part of the anger you showed toward Estelwen before she was hurt. We are both here at her previous invitation. Meldir, I know you owe my brother nothing and may feel considerable ill-will toward him, but his first meeting with Estelwen has given him something he did not have before, and I would not see this taken away by jealous anger. Glorfindel and Estelwen both told me what contributed to her injury. Rúmil confided everything to me that was said and done, during their night together. It is you, with whom I have had no communication.

"I have not spoken with her about it," Erestor admitted, looking down. I have felt too ashamed of my behavior." He sighed. "I need to give Estelwen her pain medication now. I will be brief. Then I will speak with you. I will not be unkind to Rúmil. Obviously she welcomes him. But I admit that I would like to understand." He was just about to turn away when Glorfindel came striding down the hallway. "What's this?" he asked, amused to see them thus.

"Estelwen is inside with Rúmil, and we need some place to converse. Would you lend us your rooms for a short time?" 

Glorfindel blinked. "Only if I am allowed to attend," he quipped, "for this I feel I have to hear."

Erestor slipped away to prepare the liquid for her. He knew she would rather drink one swallow of Something Truly Awful than an entire glass of Unenjoyable, so with the small dose he entered. Rúmil stopped reading, fear written on his face.

"Please pardon my interrupting," Erestor said softly, "it is time for her pain medication." Handing his love the cup, he turned back to the ellon, regarding him. "I am Erestor, Rúmil. Welcome to Imladris and to our home."

Rúmil stood and bowed deeply. "Thank you, my Lord, for your kindness."

Estelwen watched this exchange, not knowing what to think, except that it possibly afforded a distraction from the taste. _I would accuse them of adding orc spoor to this_ , she thought, _were it in any way realistic._ Both ellyn looked over at her to see her features contorted into a fantastic grimace. 

Rúmil laughed softly. "I found that adding a little honey helps a great deal," he said. "Or at least, I was told it helped."

"I will try that, next dose," Erestor said. "Please excuse me again. Your brother wants...something." Bending to kiss Estelwen on the cheek, he heard her murmur of thanks and noticed how she leaned into his touch. Then, as if this happened every day, he smiled and breezed out of the room. 

When the outer door was shut, Rúmil spoke. "I am happy for you, Estelwen. He appears to be all that I hoped you would find."

She nodded, her eyes shining. "And you...are feeling better?"

"Yes. You were right. It is still not easy, but I am trying very hard."

"I can see that. Thank you, for coming. I like hearing your voice in the reading, it is lovely. I would not mind it at all, if you visited me again. Which is to say, I wish you would."

"Will you not return to work, soon?"

"No. Or at least, I do not know how. Last time something like this happened I still had the full use of my writing-hand. I can write with the other, of course, but not well enough for the work I do. So I am sidelined for at least two weeks. Maybe longer."

Rúmil silently considered this, smiled, and continued his reading.

*****

{the next day}

Erestor's head still reeled at the sum of what he had learned yesterday. It was all he could think of, which did nothing to aid the stack of documents that was already gaining altitude on his desk. Haldir had told them both everything, and for however long he and Glorfindel had known Estelwen to have a kind and generous disposition, what was revealed humbled him to the core of his being. The evening had been spent in no idle dalliance, but rather a desperate attempt to put an end to something that had eroded the peace of mind of three elves in particular for centuries. And the attempt appeared to be succeeding. Though he knew his melethril held nothing against him, the shame he now felt was difficult to endure. His forehead dropped into his hand. The one time she had needed him most, and he had become mired in foolishness...

A knock interrupted his brooding. "Come in," he called, trying to reclaim a measure of his composure.

To his surprise, it was Rúmil, that approached his desk, bowing again deeply. "Master Erestor," he said softly, lowering his eyes. "Yesterday Estelwen spoke of her inability to write. I cannot match her skill, but there were times I completed tasks for Master Salfir. I do not presume, but I would offer myself to help, if I could somehow be of any use to you."

Erestor blinked. His eyes traveled from Rúmil, to the stack of documents, and back to Rúmil. He considered for many long minutes, noting that nothing about Rúmil's demeanor changed. There was no impatience, no expectation. "Estelwen's desk is over there. If you would please copy some lines of anything at all? It is necessary for me to see your work, before I can accept. And I have to warn you, she is fussier than a hen sitting on eggs about her quills being left in order." His voice did not change, but his eyes smiled.

Rúmil smiled and moved to do as he was asked. Erestor noted that he seemed at ease with the writing materials and had an understanding of layout. Some minutes later, the sheet of parchment was placed politely at the side of his desk. Reaching to examine it, his eyebrows lifted. No, it was not perfection, but for the purposes of at least sixty percent of the work at hand, it was more than adequate. "I accept your offer, Rúmil. This is good work, and must have required much learning on your part. If you would return after the mid day meal, I will see how this might be accomplished. I believe Estelwen is well enough to rest here. If you can be her hand, perhaps my desk will not be consumed after all."

"My Lord." With a bow, Rúmil departed, his face relaxed, and content.

*****

{three weeks later} 

Glorfindel's rooms were crowded indeed. Two more guests been added to their regular weekly dinner arrangements; tonight both Rúmil and Orophin were to join them. The occasion was ostensibly to celebrate Estelwen having been declared  fully healed (give or take the latest list of stretches and strengthening exercises). Relaxed and happy, she arrived hand in hand with Erestor, who tried to contain his nervousness. On the short walk to their meldir's rooms, Estelwen wondered at him. "Is something the matter, Erestor? You seem...not your usual self."

"No, meldis. Nothing is the matter." He smiled, trying to relax, but was finding it very difficult. 

When they entered, Estelwen immediately walked to hug Haldir, while Glorfindel took one look at his friend, and growled in his ear as he embraced him. "You are not waiting until after dessert, meldir. I know you. You will fritter into pieces. I am going to pour wine, and then out with it. It is not a request. This is my required forfeit, for your having woken me up on my rest day."

Erestor was held still by the shoulders, and nodded helplessly by way of reply. Glorfindel smoothly retreated to the wine and began pouring for his guests. Rúmil was about to tell his host 'none for me' when Haldir whispered in his ear: "This once, muindor (brother), accept it. You will see why, very soon." A barely perceptible nod followed, and Haldir clapped him on the shoulder. The wine was distributed, and Glorfindel arched his eyebrows in expectation.

Blushing furiously, Erestor set down his glass on a table and stood in front of Estelwen, gently removing hers as well, while she continued to frown at him. _Valar, he looks unwell_ , she fretted. _He is never ill, but perhaps I should take him to the Healer's?_

The Counselor took both her hands, which is when she felt that his were trembling. "Estelwen, I have not explained to you why I was upset the night you fell from the tree. I have already apologized as best I could for my foolishness." A chorus of coughs from Glorfindel and Haldir caused Erestor to blush even redder, if that was possible, while Rúmil and Orophin looked on in uncomprehending amusement. "It was because it was the anniversary of the day we came together so long ago, Estelwen." He went down now, on one knee. "And I had intended to ask if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife. Will you join your name to mine, meldis?"

Estelwen could barely believe her ears. They had never discussed this, and after so many years together she had long ago assumed that he was permanently content to leave matters as they were. Never would she presume... "The honor would be mine, Erestor. Yes, I will wed with you."

With hands that still trembled, he produced the ring so diminutive that it would not fit on his own lebig (little finger), carefully sliding it onto her index finger, before placing one sized for him in the palm of her hand. "Gin melin, Erestor," she smiled happily as she placed the ring on his finger, for once being able to reach his lips easily. When he rose to his full height, he carried her with him, locked together in a passionate kiss.

"Now now, you two," Glorfindel teased, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of so much happiness. "You can do that later. We have a betrothal to celebrate."

Laughing, the joyful couple broke apart, turning with radiant smiles to their friends, who drank to their eternal happiness. While Rúmil and Orophin would never be invited to share the intimacies in which the three Imladris residents included Haldir, they were welcomed on every other level of friendship. Later that night, when all had their fill of food and wine and conversation, Orophin spoke quietly to Rúmil. "You are different now, brother, in a way that eases my heart."

Rúmil smiled. "I have been given many gifts, and gained many insights," he said. "Tonight I was privileged to witness the full proof that my crimes are forgiven. I am free, now, brother. Free of so much pain, and blessed with new friends." Orophin did not fully understand, nor did he need to. He placed his arm around his brother's shoulder, and felt joy.

{one year later}

"Do they always fuss this much?" Estelwen asked, not entirely believing her eyes. When asked, she stated her desire for a simple ceremony, in her favorite garden. In her mind, it would ever be the place where her life began, that day long past when Glorfindel had found her crying amidst the trees. There could not be a finer place, for the formalization of their relationship. But this was not what occupied her vision. Greenery and flowers from plants she was not certain she knew existed here were appearing, adding to the garden. Everyone was attired in their finery, and the wafting scents issuing from the kitchens were beyond compare.

"It is not every day that the Counselor of Imladris weds," Erestor said, smiling down at her.

"I still say you are marrying a peon," she teased, yet enjoying her old joke. Long ago she had learned that her own skills as a scholar ranked her as a counselor as well, and that she was due great honor for her achievements. But she still never really thought of herself as anything other than Erestor's assistant, though she intellectually understood she was far more. Especially since the time of being asked to sit in at meetings, offering...counsel. The notion still amused her, though in truth she was regarded highly for the depths of her perception and her honest heart.

A knock came at the door, and Glorfindel peeked in. "Don't _you_ look tempting," Estelwen admired, as Erestor joined her in ogling the seneschal up and down.

"You two," he grinned. "Save your lust for each other, today. I can wear the clothes some other evening, if that is your wish."

"I think it is," Erestor quipped, drawing out the phrase slowly. For neither had ever seen their beautiful friend appear thus. His hair was as burnished gold, with delicate braids of a kind not usually worn pulling his hair back from his face. Garments of turquoise and sky blue that accented his stunning eyes were embroidered with celandines, a favorite flower in memory of his past life in Gondolin. Brown leather boots polished until they gleamed completed his ensemble.

"That might have to be our present. Do you not agree, melethron?" Estelwen whispered to Erestor.

"Indeed."

With a growl of exasperation, Glorfindel rolled his eyes, but he smiled. "I have created this monster, and now I must live with it, I suppose," he teased back.

"Yes," both nodded happily, before all of them burst into laughter.

"Come. It is time to see you wed."

*****

Everyone attended, invited or not. Their dearest friends and honored guests stood closest. Elven wedding ceremonies were so blessedly brief that chairs were pointless. No one was surprised, to see that Glorfindel was the one chosen to offer a blessing. When the seneschal stood before the couple, his words were few, but meaningful. "Today we witness the promises of two who are beloved by many. Long have they walked hand in hand, since finding each other's love. But it was not always thus. Every relationship has a story, and their story was based on four words: 'There is always hope.' Erestor, Estelwen, you have come through many trials and doubts to this moment, which I *hoped* I would one day see." A few guffaws and giggles were heard from those assembled. Glaring briefly at those who did not keep their silence, he continued. "You have both shown yourselves to be vessels of love, compassion, and forbearance. You will ever be a light, to all those graced to know you. Before Eru and these witnesses, now speak your vows."

Glorfindel stepped back, and saw something astonishing. Lord Elrond stood next to Celebrían and her parents, and his eyes were fixed on the elleth with a look of unsurpassed yearning. The emotion in that gaze almost stole Glorfindel's breath from him, so powerfully was it felt. Forcing his eyes away, he returned his focus to his friends, who had taken each other's hands.

"I Erestor," he paused.

"I Estelwen," she paused as well, before they both recited together as they held each other's eyes:

"...pledge myself to you in marriage. My body, spirit and love I freely give, and I place these gifts in your keeping forever more. From this moment forward, in the sight of our Father Eru, our names are united."  Both their eyes pooled with tears, as their joy threatened to overwhelm them. Glorfindel held out his large hand, which contained gold bands. One at a time, each removed the silver ring and replaced it with the golden, giving the silver ones into Glorfindel's keeping.

There were murmurs of contentment and happiness all around, when Erestor knelt to better give his diminutive elleth her first kiss as his wife. Amidst well-wishes and congratulations, their guests began to move in the direction of the tempting aromas. They were almost left alone with Haldir and his brothers when a thin, childish voice was heard to carry: "But Nana! He is so big and she is so small. Why did they not marry someone the right size?" The six of them looked at each other, wide-eyed, until all of them burst out into laughter. While not everything about the relationship between Erestor and Estelwen had been shared with Rúmil and Orophin, at least *that* detail of understandable curiosity had been discreetly provided some time ago. Though Rúmil blushed to hear it and was initially speechless, even he now saw the humor. They laughed helplessly together until tears streamed down their faces, and with great happiness went to join their wedding feast.

*****

{three weeks later}

The six friends were cherishing their last meal together, for the indefinite future. Tomorrow, the three brothers would return to the Golden Wood.

"I somehow imagined that you were...I don't know what," said Estelwen. "It did not occur to me that you were not remaining with the Lord and Lady."

Orophin shook his head. "We are Galadhrim. Silvan elves. The forest of Laurelindórenan is the only home we have ever known. That is where our hearts lie." 

Rúmil sagely nodded in agreement. "Though, my time here has been a healing and a blessing. I hope I shall visit again, someday."

"I do not think I need say that all of you ever have a place here," said Glorfindel. "I am filled with joy, for at last my hopes too are realized. Or at least, one of them. It is no secret that I am an incurable romantic," he posited.

"Who will like as not never marry," quipped Haldir, rolling his eyes.

"Leave him be, Haldir," defended Estelwen. "Glorfindel is married to all. Perhaps as are you," she said pointedly. "I for one am grateful."

"Then what is your other hope, meldir?" Erestor asked, curious. "That is, if you can say."

"I do not ordinarily speak of others," Glorfindel answered slowly, swirling his wine. "But this once, and as I know the discretion of everyone here is inviolable....It is Lord Elrond. I believe that his heart is lost to Celebrían. And yet she will be sailing with her parents, when they at last continue their journey. I am filled with sadness, in this."

"You really _are_ an incurable romantic," Haldir acknowledged, not at all managing to dodge the raisin that Estelwen aimed at his forehead with astonishing accuracy as she glowered at him.

To everyone's surprise, quiet  Rúmil spoke. "I would not let your heart be weighed down, Glorfindel. I have spent my years learning many hard lessons, but the hardest was the one beautiful Estelwen taught. Hope comes in many forms. No one can say what the future will hold. Continue on as you are, a beacon of goodness and a refuge for all that know you. Because..."

Rúmil did not complete his sentence alone. The chorus came from all of them: "There is always hope."

 

The End.


End file.
